Stories of childhood

I feel older when she insists me to recite stories of my childhood. This happens quite often now as our television has become obsolete. The stories of my school, of my play, of my mischief, of my visits to grandparents and my encounters with my numerous cousins...

And, as the stories unwind there follows inquiries such as 'why don't I have?' or 'why wasn't I there?'
It's difficult to explain how things have changed now: from how 'we' were to how 'they' are now.
It's changed from playing in gallis and fields and farms to just play areas or parks with a slide and swing.
It's changed from playing on streets to corridors or parks.

The mere act of 'cycling', for example, has reduced to 'riding within restricted vicinity'. On roads it's dangerous. I often get reminded of the cycle rides that took us from school to friends' house;from picnics to coaching classes. A bicycle was everybody's best friend then.

How I wish I could show her what a joy that would be!
At least she is lucky, in a sense that her grandparents stay in a village where she can still enjoy things in its true sense.