Childhood- the unparallel time in man’s life!!!
My childhood is full of vivid memories really. Being a bank official’s son I couldn’t complain of not seeing enough places.
I opened my eyes to see this beautiful world first in Bangalore, when my dad was working in Davanagere. What a feeling I wonder now! Sleeping on grandma’s lap with not a care of the world? Are babies really like this … I ask myself wondering sometimes if it was really me that were in the snap with my grandma in front of the cooking stove in the kitchen? Funny it seems remembering the hutch ad which asks people not to click pictures without permission which my dad did. Kids mentality changes with generations I guess, which made me coming from the past generation strike an awesome pose to my dad’s camera rather than throwing his camera away. How I miss my grandma who stayed only some 4 years further.
Some 2 years old and well… I can’t forget making my mom carry me around the whole locality to finish up a small bowl of rice with rasam, helping her gain a few more friends than she would do otherwise. Davanagere to Hubli and pictures of the Lions English School get painted in my head as if I am in a net-meeting with my past. Memories of a silk white kurta-pajama clad with a handkerchief pinned to my dress with hair combed so skillfully by mom as if I were going to some ‘baby show’ rather than to school makes up my kindergarten memoirs. Come 1st standard I remember my tryst with the mixer grinder. That day mom was getting ready with the mix to prepare dosa, and my uncle who had got engaged to his soul mate recently visited us. Guess it must have been to greet them that I pressed the wiper on the mixer, the dosa contents in it the container showered upon the to-be weds as if it were the sacred blessings of elders.
Memories, well they are just so fabulous. It was astonishment, jubilation when my little sister came into the world. It was like growing up all over again watching her grow. We started playing all the pranks we probably could, like putting a wet notebook sheet on mom’s leg when asleep and running away before she could catch hold of me and beat the daylight out of me. Of course being elder comes with a cost to pay, in my case a handful of slaps on my back.
Time passed by and I started feeling old by the time I was in my 2nd. I started thinking how could be people so silly, calling me a kid (Mari) and passing comments like ‘chooooo chweeet’. Thus started my childhood giving me a platform to youth-hood, of which the memories are as sweet if not better. How I wish I will grow to be a person who can take his children out in the world to live at different places, letting the different cultures and people bear indelible experiences on young minds of lovely children.
My childhood is full of vivid memories really. Being a bank official’s son I couldn’t complain of not seeing enough places.
I opened my eyes to see this beautiful world first in Bangalore, when my dad was working in Davanagere. What a feeling I wonder now! Sleeping on grandma’s lap with not a care of the world? Are babies really like this … I ask myself wondering sometimes if it was really me that were in the snap with my grandma in front of the cooking stove in the kitchen? Funny it seems remembering the hutch ad which asks people not to click pictures without permission which my dad did. Kids mentality changes with generations I guess, which made me coming from the past generation strike an awesome pose to my dad’s camera rather than throwing his camera away. How I miss my grandma who stayed only some 4 years further.
Some 2 years old and well… I can’t forget making my mom carry me around the whole locality to finish up a small bowl of rice with rasam, helping her gain a few more friends than she would do otherwise. Davanagere to Hubli and pictures of the Lions English School get painted in my head as if I am in a net-meeting with my past. Memories of a silk white kurta-pajama clad with a handkerchief pinned to my dress with hair combed so skillfully by mom as if I were going to some ‘baby show’ rather than to school makes up my kindergarten memoirs. Come 1st standard I remember my tryst with the mixer grinder. That day mom was getting ready with the mix to prepare dosa, and my uncle who had got engaged to his soul mate recently visited us. Guess it must have been to greet them that I pressed the wiper on the mixer, the dosa contents in it the container showered upon the to-be weds as if it were the sacred blessings of elders.
Memories, well they are just so fabulous. It was astonishment, jubilation when my little sister came into the world. It was like growing up all over again watching her grow. We started playing all the pranks we probably could, like putting a wet notebook sheet on mom’s leg when asleep and running away before she could catch hold of me and beat the daylight out of me. Of course being elder comes with a cost to pay, in my case a handful of slaps on my back.
Time passed by and I started feeling old by the time I was in my 2nd. I started thinking how could be people so silly, calling me a kid (Mari) and passing comments like ‘chooooo chweeet’. Thus started my childhood giving me a platform to youth-hood, of which the memories are as sweet if not better. How I wish I will grow to be a person who can take his children out in the world to live at different places, letting the different cultures and people bear indelible experiences on young minds of lovely children.
2 comments:
good to read your hildhood memories...
dude awesome stuff on childhood
Post a Comment