Nostalgic thoughts on a New Year Eve
I am now 52 and living in another part of the globe as different from where I was born. Since I look at me every day in the mirror, the passing of the years have not exactly entered my mind though the hairs going grey remind me of the need for coloring it periodically. Recently, at the marriage function of my niece Remya in Cherthala, Kunjunniyannan, the redoubtable pediatric surgeon, reminded me that my former physical charms have indeed waned. I jokingly accepted it and blamed it on the vicissitudes of a tough life. I have always maintained that our generation is quite unique. This post independent generation, younger to the midnight’s children – apologies to Rushdie- happens to be the last link of a long chain which has experienced two different worlds: the old world of shortages and less choices and the new world of luxuries and aplenty. In our childhood, there were large tracts of agricultural lands around the houses and there were many places to play. There were no chocolates,