Can’t wait till the last kernel pops …
The place I call home being situated on an uphill slope, I had the privilege of getting to see things being moved by road from above. Bunches of unripe or half-ripe bananas, and burlap bags of tightly packed copra, were a few among them, getting transported on the rooftop carriers of the passenger buses from my hometown to the district central market. Unlike today's kids, we didn’t have many things to pay attention to. So we were naturally growing closer to nature, smelling its seasonal smells, feeling its changes, listening to its own ambient music, and enjoying the kaleidoscopic changes in colorful leaves and flowers. The occasional call of vendors selling popcorn, cotton candy, ice cream, or milky or grape-topped ice bars really made us super-excited. We were never sure if our wish to have some would be granted, though. It all depended upon the unpredictable moods of our parents. Sometimes they were easy to persuade, but more often an emphatic “no” would be the o...