Treasure, I’ll say is a relative term. When I was a boy of five, the petty shop opposite our school was to me a treasure house because there were glass trays of peppermints, peanut candy, chocolates and other sweets. When I visited the nearby town along with my father, the shop selling toys, marbles and other play materials seemed to be a treasure-house. When I came to work in Madras (now renamed Chennai), I was stunned by the large number of books available for readers at the Connemara library. Sure, it was a treasure-house of knowledge. For an ordinary woman, a jeweller’s shop is a treasure-house. Treasure hunters believe that some pirates would have buried their loot in some out of the way uninhabited island and died in a ship-wreck. For the antique collector, very old and unusable articles like pots, trays and trinkets are invaluable treasure.