Nostalgia has a way of putting life back into one’s days and buoying the spirits. I was a young boy of 8 years old, enjoying the boyhood in my village, Nadur, near Sira Taluk in Tumakuru district. All seasons were good and contributed in their own way to our merriment. In the rainy season, the village tank was full of water, unlike the present days of persistent drought. My friends and I used to walk quietly along the tank bed, listening to the gentle, rhythmic sound of the water lapping against the tank wall. The farmers’ joy of watching a full tank was hard to miss. In the winter, we huddled around a bonfire made out of coconut shells and pieces of wood to keep ourselves warm.