During our last visit to Vadodara, our home town, we were received at the railway station by my younger brother and his little three year old son Anand. While his father rode his scooter on the way back home, Anand preferred to accompany his somewhat older cousins in the taxi that we took.
When we were passing by the impressive building of the Science faculty of the M.S. University of Baroda with its distinctive metallic dome, my sons looked at it with some amount of interest.
" That is my Papa's school ", calmly explained Anand.
Soon we passed by the even more impressive big - domed building of the Arts faculty. My sons' pupils got even more dilated on seeing this spectacle.
" This is my mummy's school " even more calmly asserted Anand.
This exhibition of his cousin's Papa's and Mummy's schools seemed to chafe little Ashesh, just a year older than Anand. Not long however.
" There goes my Papa's school " triumphantly shouted Ashesh.
Having been busy in my own thoughts about the expected reunion with the family. I had, thus far, not paid much attention to the childrens' patter. Since the faculty of Engineering was nowhere nearby, I shook off my thoughts to look in the direction of Ashesh's pointed finger.
Going ahead of our taxi was an oil tank truck with INDIANOIL, my employer's name blazoned across its rear ! To little boys, noise making moving objects are more impressive than static buildings, however beautiful their facade.