I often wonder about the forests I have walked through. Where the tallness of trees could be measured by how often we bend down to pick up their leaves. I think about the sound of birds that tell more stories than all the books that I have in those twenty six cartons that travel the world with me. I wonder about the edges of the forests where civilizations make their presence felt with concrete and tar. And I think of the warm sunlight that comes through the trees and gently covers the evening with its golden sheet. That's pretty much all I need to dream of big pipal and neem trees growing in the heart of malls in Gurgaon. Civil disobedience of the trees. Now that is a plot worth thinking about.