My childhood days were idyllically spent not too far from Lake Hesaraghatta, Karnataka. The reservoir was 12 kms from home as the crow flies, and almost the same distance to reach through fields and narrow walking paths. During the 70s, Bangalore was known as the ‘pensioners paradise’. The city had perfect weather, and was nostalgically attractive. There were birds all around Hesaraghatta, and I never paid attention to any of them. Cycling down, finding a place to unpack a loaf of bread and spreading ketchup and jam mash-up was a very interesting activity. Never noticed the birds.

