All praise to Darab bawa and Khodai. His treatment usually works .
It's funny how with the years piling up, old memories get bundled over by the crush of life.
Memories of me learning how to ride a cycle on a tree lined quiet peaceful avenue with quaint houses. Grandfather running behind, shouting encouragement proudly as he finally left his hands. The cycle rented from a small shop on the way.
This was a Parsi colony beyond the Geeta Bhavan - Tardeo bridge junction. To the left. Then buying bread from Polad on the way home. Buying a bunch of grass to feed the big brown cow.
India surely has changed. It's become a harder place.
Cheers, Doc
.