So my muscular neighbour begins his ascend of the jackfruit tree with the dexterity of an orangutan. He climbs, swings from one branch to another till he reaches that coveted jackfruit. The li’l kids below have been throwing stones at it since morning but achieved nothing except making a few birds shriek. The boys were glad the messiah of the colony was at the job because frankly, nobody else could have dreamt of climbing up a tree that steep. Mr T often came to the rescue of those in desparation in the mohalla. Often, in action, he'd wear something as basic as a pair of shorts, as of letting us commoners know how easy of a task it was to him. Today his choice of garment was just a towel. Yes you read it right...a towel. Say what you will but any Indian boy who has ever had to wear even a dhoti, knows how wearing it while doing nothing at all can still qualify as multi-tasking. But there aren't many challenges beyond Mr.T's abilities. By this time, the colony had as