I spent a great deal of my childhood days, at the place of my grandmother and in the company of my elder sister, Romila. My sister was a plump, docile and very girlish child. She was my buddy when my best chum, my brother, Jan, was not around.
My grandmother, Nani, was a rich widow. She lived in a big wooden and shingle roofed house in the City of Curepipe. Nani’s house was nestled in the heart of a large property covered with exotic fruit trees.
A tomboy, a relentless adventurer and explorer, I loved to climb trees and hide in their leaves, playing at imaginative games. I was simply and purely fascinated by trees.
I was particularly impressed by a majestic Bell Fruit tree (also called Jamalac or Jeanbosse tree in Mauritius or Jamrul tree in India) that stood in the midst of the vast terrain. It was always…
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