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I wasn’t a terribly naughty child by any means, but I had my share of errant behavior that kept my parents busy. Summers seemed to bring out the best or the worst in me, depending on which side of the equation you viewed it. I loved climbing the tall, wide mango and tamarind trees in my neighborhood in Mumbai, India, then known as Bombay, to grab whatever fruit adorned their branches. If the pods lay higher and out of reach, as they most often did, I’d resort to tossing sticks and stones to knock them off. The neighbors’ complaints, parental reprimands and my adventure-related scraped knees and bruised arms were all well worth their promise. There is a thrill that accompanies the cracking... Full story

10 August