Yes, vowels are now  They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named . Or so I am given to understand by most of the text messages I receive. Irrespective of the sender's age group, vowels seem to have become persona non grata.  Now, I understand social media junkies resorting to stripping the flesh off the skeletal consonants. Completely preoccupied with their online identities and having at least ten social media accounts to maintain simultaneously, they simply have no time to waste typing vowels. They have posts of their own to edit and upload, that of others to check, 'follow', 'like' and 'heart'; several selfies to edit, 'filter', touch up and enhance to an extent that would shock somebody who meets them in person for the first time, as their faces would look nothing like their picture; many seething comments to write and numerous things to scrutinize and find politically incorrect.  I do see that if these lost souls are forced to focus on proper spelling, they mig...

  1980s Our family vacation draws to a close . We have four hours left to catch the train back home. We decide to wait in a park.  There is a woman selling tender coconuts outside the gates. As I play with my cousins on the slide, we are joined by her kids. Merry, energetic and giddy with  boisterous mirth, they make terrific playmates.  My mother and aunt lay out  the packed lunch in a shaded spot and summon us to eat.  As we race to the makeshift picnic table, our playmates join us. The ladies hand us the loaded paper plates to be passed around, automatically giving us a few extra , which we spontaneously offer to our new-found friends. Their eyes light up. I joke and laugh with them over a delicious meal, unconsciously forming an indelible memory of a simple but profoundly delightful experience. 2020s We are a group of neighbours strolling around a park, as our children run about and play. As we sit down for a rest, our kids take a break and come running...