What do I miss when I am away from India? Is it the sight of silver anklets laden feet, or the sound of the pressure cooker whistling away in its morning glory? Or the neighbourhood night-watchman's call and tap of jagte raho, keep awake, keep vigilant? Or the melodious music of the koels or the cawing of the crows? I miss all of these and more, for nostalgia is like sugar, sweetening every little thing.