Stories hold meaning like no other thing to me. One reason being my unfaltering faith in them which developed at a tender age. As I grew, i found science contradicting the world of stories. I for example found that what was told to me as a weeping sky was actually rain and for that no angels needed to shed their tears. But just like an adamant kid I refused to give away to some of the stories which I held so dear, for whatever came out of grandpa's mouth in the form of stories formed my world. I remember accompanying my grandpa for morning walks, he would keep me updating about the medicinal quality of plants as we walked past them and whenever we would pass a huge peepal tree, he would remark, "Child, this is a magic tree. It takes away our sorrows and fills our heart with hope" , and he would ask me to take deep breaths and would pass on his gentle smile while stroking my hair and would say, "Now you are going to be cheerful, the tree has blessed you". I woul...