He left the place, making the gesture of Namaste with his hands.

With his eyes dilated he began to recite a poem by Tagore - Panraksha.

This owner of the tea shop, now over sixty, was a little rustic in appearance.

The spoilt child affluent parents!

The spoilt child of affluent parents. He was a fairly good student, but could never beat me. He was extremely jealous of me. And used to tell lies.

The spoilt child of affluent parents. He was a fairly good student, but could never beat me. He was extremely jealous of me. And used to tell lies.

The attic has always been a favourite with children. A portion of the wall of the attic crumbled down and through the window that had been created, we could see the sky, the fields, the spire of the old temple. The floor was strewn with twigs and straw.

The attic has always been a favourite with children. A portion of the wall of the attic crumbled down and through the window that had been created, we could see the sky, the fields, the spire of the old temple. The floor was strewn with twigs and straw.

Trying to revive old childhood memories may prove disappointing, but he said he wished to visit the tea shop of Nagen uncle, if it still existed. We drove to Brahmapur of which Adityas ancestors were once the Zamindars.

We were driving along National Highway 40. We had reached a point where the road bifurcated. If we drove ten kilometres along the road that branched off to the right, we would reach Brahmapur. I asked Aditya whether he was interested in revisiting the place of his birth.

But it would have been frustrating and difficult.

Sasanka uncle was busy reciting verses from Tagore.

His nerves seemed overwrought for some reason.

The jeweller remarked that it was an antique. Our next stop was the house of jogesh Kabiraj. Though I was a little curious, I didn't ask Aditya anything. We entered the house and went to the room where Sasanka Sanyal stayed. Sasanka uncle was busy reciting verses from Tagore.

The owner of the tea shop, now over sixty, a little rustic in appearance, with his white neatly-combed hair and clean look, was the same as before. He was wearing a dhoti and a blue striped shirt.

The owner of the tea shop, now over sixty, a little rustic in appearance, with his white neatly-combed hair and dean look, was the same as before. He was wearing a dhoti and a blue striped shirt.

The owner of the tea shop, now over sixty, a little rustic in appearance, with his white neatly-combed hair and dean look, was the same as before. He was wearing a dhoti and a blue striped shirt.

After about ten minutes, we came to the local school. Beyond the iron gates were the playing field and the two-storeyed school building. We got down from the car and stood in front of the gate. I asked Aditya whether everything was still the same.

After about ten minutes, we came to the local school. Beyond the iron gates were the playing field and the two-storeyed school building. We got down from the car and stood in front of the gate. I asked Aditya whether everything was still the same.

When I left our ancestral house, twenty-nine years ago, the house was almost two hundred years recollected Aditya. 'I doubt if even the school building, which may have undergone many changes, will be recognisable any more.