Do you know, the stillness around, While peaceful, inviting even a pin-drop- Does invoke nostalgia from the golden cup- Which steams into sympathy for the lost chaos. The lost ambling, the muted squealing, the free Uninhibited playing- the syncopated beats of A child's sundry existence. I am reminded Of my childhood days- I look over the shoulder, And don't trip, but smile, pushed ahead. Such is The power of the people that filled those days. Those Saturday mornings, spent entirely outdoors, Playing some game or the other delightfully, gleefully, The restlessness of the place as we debated, finally deciding On the next game. The winner didn't matter- with so many Such games- who could ever keep track? Of course, those were the days when gadgets Had a subtle, accessory presence- not the dominant Monopoly that they exercise over us now. Friend to friend, home to home, we bustled, Spending time with flesh-and-blood, not with silicon- To put it coa...