1.0PoohsDenhttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsdenVinithahttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/author/pooh_admin/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="dAyyV6rGQs"><a href="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/then-and-now-childhood/">Then and Now – Childhood</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/then-and-now-childhood/embed/#?secret=dAyyV6rGQs" width="600" height="338" title="“Then and Now – Childhood” — PoohsDen" data-secret="dAyyV6rGQs" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js /* ]]> */ </script> Nostalgia is a powerful thing. It hits you at the unexpected moment taking one back to days of my childhood. It happens when I see the gulmohar tree burst out in flowers shading the skies red. It happens when I see a fine sheet of dust coat a pristine white shirt staining it brown. I watch my almost six-year old daughter sing, spin, twirl and collapse giggling on the floor. And let nostalgia seep through me. I travel back in time to my own childhood. We are very different. Her and me. My daughter and I. In looks, in the choices we make and the way we are wired. Our childhoods are no exception. Very different they are. She would never run out and dance in the rain with other kids uninhibited and least worried about sickness and germs. She would never know the thrill as the first drops of fat warm raindrops hit the skin. She would never hop, skip and jump over puddles and squeal in delight and horror as the clayey sand struck to polished white canvas shoes. She would never pluck a raw mango from the tree and bite into its tangy sourness and plucker up her […]http://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/IMG_3263.jpg