Mango tree house
I once had a treehouse. I was perhaps five or seven then. Unlike 'traditional' treehouses, mine was not atop a tree. In fact, it was beneath a mango tree in our backyard. The thick mango tree trunk was a Grand Trunk Road of sorts for the ants in constant motion there. They were unrelenting in their pursuit of picking up and delivering bits of food into a nest far, far away. I was never interested in their habitat. But what intrigued me and still does is the loads that they carted. Twice, sometimes thrice their own size. Up and down, in and around the huge, flaying, mango labyrinth they marched. In one of its hollows lay their life's sum total of toil and existence. Mango tree was host to a large number of birds as well. Predominantly koels, crows and parrots. Flocks of noisy, argumentative parrots would descend on it towards the evening. After having destroyed a sufficient amount of fruit they would fly away (equally noisily). My mango tree house had ...