Once when I was growing up...

  Neeti dumped her school bag on the sofa. She raced straight to the terrace and asked her little sister, Drishti, to join her. "Hurry up Drishti. Pa's kite has won over five kites already. We need to join everyone when they cheer for him. The sound is not loud enough." "O Paaaar!" A cacophony of children's voices from Neeti's apartment and two of the neighbouring ones echoed in the sunny afternoon of one fourteenth of January this year too.  It was Makar Sankranti. Kite flying on this day was very popular where Neeti and her family lived. More so, Pa was extremely fond of it. He used to prepare for the festival days in advance. A bunch of decent kites were purchased every year in the second week of the first month. Neeti and Drishti picked the colours and designs. Pa checked the make of kites by slightly bending one and rubbing it over his head. That would show the strength of sticks used to make it. Then there was another thing to be made ready.  Manja...

    Pa’s scooter was one of Neeti’s favorite things in life. She was always able to tell when he entered their lane because of the typical sound it made. The countless scooter rides that Pa took her sister, Drishti, and her to buy their birthday cakes, to buy fire crackers from a wholesale market, to see the city’s government area lit up on Independence Day or plain joy rides on Sunday evenings, only added more and more cherishable memories to her childhood. It was during one of the ten day long Ganesh Chaturthi festival celebrations. Pa was going to take them to look at all the pandal decorations nearby. Neeti seldom bothered to peek into the scooter ‘dikki’. Pa had just opened it for a dust rag to wipe the seat. An interesting object lying inside caught her attention. It was a small, empty medicine bottle with a long string attached to its neck. She had no clue about its purpose. “Pa, what’s this funny thing?”, she asked curiously, while picking the bottle from the string an...