I remember my afternoon memories to be of climbing trees, running amuck in mud, picking up fallen mulberries and jamuns from the central Delhi avenues, playing hide and seek amongst large trees, observing butterflies, walking barefoot early morning on grass, following the movements of tadpoles in ponds, and being amused by seeing earthworms and ants at work. Many of us share such a childhood, where summer or playtime meant to go outdoors, to be outside. Grass felt better than concrete, trees felt relaxing and let us not forget the countless hours we spent observing insects and fallen flowers in grass. But where do we see ourselves when we talk of a holiday or nature anymore?