The Three Boys

I wonder how I forgot to write about these earlier. I had my first year of formal schooling in the hill town where my father was posted. The entire terrain was marked by hillocks. The house we stayed was atop one such hillock, and we could see bigger ones in the distance. The sun rose up from behind these every morning- it was very much like children's paintings. The houses were separated by rocky stretches of flat land. On the slope of the hillock going to the main road was another house where my father's colleague and family lived. I don't recall when we befriended them, but I remember the boys coming to my house sometimes and me going to theirs. The eldest was three years older to me, the second son was a year senior in school and the youngest must have been some two years younger to me. We all went to the same school. They were boys as boys are usually seen- active, boisterous and naughty. Though they fought with each other, they were always good to me; they must have felt some little-boyish sense of chivalry to the only girl in the vicinity. It was easy to be good to me too; I had a sweet countenance and was friendly, talkative and easily scared. The topography gave us a sense of adventure exploring the place. Whenever my mother allowed-she was overprotective of me whereas the boys' mother was more liberal, perhaps resigned to the ways of boys- we spent our time outdoors. We plucked low hanging fruit from cashew trees and brought home the nut to be collected and roasted later. We played hide and seek behind the rocks and even made new friends of a newly arrived neighbor family all on our own. I believe it was the dad of the little girl in the picture that clicked us all together. I lost touch with them all long long back maybe within a year or two when my father was posted elsewhere. I wonder where they are now.