The jamun tree Beneath that jamun tree our story began in the backyard of your house, listening to your endless stories while busy narrating my own ones, in those shared moments of innocence and laughter, waiting for the bell to ring to measure our way back home, weighed down with school bags yet with a host of unforgettable secrets inside our lunch boxes and sharpeners. Unkempt and unbothered, our story walked through lanes of months and years, through quarrels and cajoling,