Trail of Ants

Spin, spin, spiiiiin… the central hub of our rusting green roundabout squealed for forgiveness as my kid sister and I span ourselves senseless before tumbling playfully onto the back garden. ‘Where are you, John?’, Natalie echoed aimlessly to my alter ego. I picked up my invisible SpeedTalker 8000 radio to get the message through to my sister (alter ego; Jane), ‘I’m in outeeeer spaaaaace’ I’d crackle, ensuring we didn’t ruin the imagination of the game with the reality of eye contact. I floated around in my spacesuit urgently fiddling with a failing antenna, ‘where arrrre yoooou, Jane?’. Just moments after I successfully avoided a Martian-occupied asteroid, Jane regained communication, ‘I’m in - yee haaa - the wild west! Giddy up cowboy! He-ya he-ya‘. The following hour-or-so was spent trying to find each other in the confines of the modest lawn, though to us it took on convenient swirling portals, terrifying totem poles and spontaneous transportation upon a cosmic twister. I believed the roundabout didn’t survived our playful youth, though the past week or more in India, has caused me to wonder. Continue reading ‘India’s Child’s Play’