once upon a time is a great beginning… it usually sets the premise about a story… the time..the context…the conditions thereof… the reader or listener is willfully ready to travel to the time and place that the story teller is addressing… so easy to believe really! now if we add the word India to the phrase once upon a time … suddenly millions of visuals and sounds come rushing thru the door of my mind and are vying with one another to say that they are the better representation for India… in the midst of all this infighting of thoughts and ideas…i have my own little experience and perspective…the one that unknowingly makes me think the way i do…certainly part of the whole truth..but not the truth as a whole… coz I too have only been a part of a certain time in India… and have access to only the few other times that I have heard about or read …other people’s points of view…

so what is this once upon a time that i have in mind? or rather…what part of time can i speak with authority about? time itself is passing by all the time and we yet its such a constant…

so once upon my time in India brings to mind the tricycle rides with my best friend neighbor in patel nagar in new delhi…i was about 3yrs old…the sultry afternoons with power cuts and no great modernization in recreation yet achieved… we used to sing some popular songs and ride the tricycles till as long as our mothers find us missing from the house…

there was a neem tree on the pavement near the crossing…a few meters from the the porch of our rented house… we had a little verandah where the tricycle-athon would happen in the quiet of the delhi summers….the verandah was a common  one which was shared by about 4 sifferent households…in the same complex……

near the neem tree was a cycle shop which rented bigger cycles…the ones we both would ride some day soon…but back then they seemed too dangerous and hard to handle…how cud anyone ride only on two wheels??? seemed so impractical…how bad will the balance become!?…and then people complain about accidents… we were convinced that three wheels are better than two wheels… nevertheless…later on in life we were bound to change our opinion and how!

the neem tree had a look of eternity on it…like its been there from the times of the pandavs or even before…and may just have given them shelter in similar sweltering conditions during their exile…what poise! what a strong appearance it had! In fall the neem tree threw down some seed like fruits…yellow with a soft center… and they were so many that it wud cover the enitre foot path around the tree. As people walked by they cudnt avoid stepping on the seeds that wud make a squishy and irritating sound…i used to hate that sound…really! and sometimes avoided going in that direction for the same reason… the cycle shop was owned by an old gentlman…he seemed to me a very content and calm person…never fretting over anything…he used to breeze threw his days with total control without begrudging anything… he was probably muslim or sikh coz he had a long beard…more white than black and used to have a sort of turban/cap… he wore very dirty and wierd clothes…somtimes his pajamas would be worn so high that his ankles and lower calves cud be seen…sometime he wore a sleeveless sweater too… but the important thing for me and indeed for us is that we both wanted to get friendly with this man…coz our future lay in his hands…very soon when we sud start liking two wheel bikes…he was the only one in the whole of east patel nagar who cud fulfill our dezire… so we both started early enough… we wud just hang around the shop and make polite conversation from time to time… many times just touchand feel the cycles standing there and gettin a high…nothing seemed more exciting than this… and then suddenly my mother wud come searchign for me and find me wasting time in the shop and whisk us boys away… till another time when we wud come back and continue building our future relationship with the cycle shop…and the old shop keeper…

will be back for more…in Once upon a time in India:-))