Someone has been egging me to write about something close to the family. That lead me thinking and brought me to one thing that connected us all.
Our childhood home.
My first memory rolls back to the time a tiny,little kitten sat outside the kitchen while my mom and grandma coaxed me to have a glass of milk.
Surrounded by trees that offered fruits and shade, a garden around the house with colourful flowers, a two storey structure with a gate and a pathway leading to the main door, the house was huge. There was a swing in the backyard and a tub of a cement block, which I don't remember using and a WELL.
Life was laid back. I would be playing at home, playing at the neighbors'. Playing up till it's 6 o'clock until my mom called my name. I'd be really scared to be late and rush home as fast as I could. She has never hit me but still I feared her.
The older girls in the neighborhood had a good time dressing me up. I wasn't a doll but I just loved lipstick. Though I'd later struggle to keep my lips apart. Those lipsticks were very sticky and my parted lips made me drool which I had to suck in every few seconds which in turn provided entertainment to the whole family.
I remember once when a beggar had come for alms and I had followed my mother only to get a thorn up in my foot. My tender baby feet bled a lot. I still remember seeing a long red streak, or probably just my strong imagination.
I was very young compared to my cousins. At least 20 years younger. One cousin would take me on his bike to get me some GEMS. I'd be very scared when he'd ride fast. I would cling on like a lizard. Yup! That scared.
The thunderstorms were scary. I remember one night, my sister was just a baby. She was on my mother's lap, I was sitting close by, dad and grandma were there too. Yet the thunder startled and scared me. I would shut my ears to keep the fear away. I still do not understand why I shuddered so. It was not about the surprise element, something more.
For the naughty kid who failed to sleep, my dad always had the perfect medicine First he would start off with stories. I would always listen to ONE (really just one) before dozing off. Most nights it would mix up with the things he did at work, sleepy ramblings. Second, he would gently mention the GOBLINS that would come out if the kids are too noisy and awake at night. Eyes and ears will both be shut tight even before he finishes his narration. Our bedtime would coincide with the Parliament News at 9 and on Sundays with The World This Week.
I remember many small incidents, simple ones. Once my sister and I were dressed in identical PAVADAIs and playing down in the pathway. My dad wanted to click some pictures. Happily my sister came and hugged me from behind, circling my shoulders with her tiny hands. It was so sudden that I ended up accidentally swallowing an entire LEMON RAVALGON whose lemony taste I was relishing till that moment. Photo clicked!
Too many thoughts flash in front of my eyes. For a 5 year old, seems like I had a good memory. Or it is purely because the impact was such. A beautiful memory of a life so innocent.
Our childhood home.
My first memory rolls back to the time a tiny,little kitten sat outside the kitchen while my mom and grandma coaxed me to have a glass of milk.
Surrounded by trees that offered fruits and shade, a garden around the house with colourful flowers, a two storey structure with a gate and a pathway leading to the main door, the house was huge. There was a swing in the backyard and a tub of a cement block, which I don't remember using and a WELL.
Life was laid back. I would be playing at home, playing at the neighbors'. Playing up till it's 6 o'clock until my mom called my name. I'd be really scared to be late and rush home as fast as I could. She has never hit me but still I feared her.
The older girls in the neighborhood had a good time dressing me up. I wasn't a doll but I just loved lipstick. Though I'd later struggle to keep my lips apart. Those lipsticks were very sticky and my parted lips made me drool which I had to suck in every few seconds which in turn provided entertainment to the whole family.
I remember once when a beggar had come for alms and I had followed my mother only to get a thorn up in my foot. My tender baby feet bled a lot. I still remember seeing a long red streak, or probably just my strong imagination.
I was very young compared to my cousins. At least 20 years younger. One cousin would take me on his bike to get me some GEMS. I'd be very scared when he'd ride fast. I would cling on like a lizard. Yup! That scared.
The thunderstorms were scary. I remember one night, my sister was just a baby. She was on my mother's lap, I was sitting close by, dad and grandma were there too. Yet the thunder startled and scared me. I would shut my ears to keep the fear away. I still do not understand why I shuddered so. It was not about the surprise element, something more.
For the naughty kid who failed to sleep, my dad always had the perfect medicine First he would start off with stories. I would always listen to ONE (really just one) before dozing off. Most nights it would mix up with the things he did at work, sleepy ramblings. Second, he would gently mention the GOBLINS that would come out if the kids are too noisy and awake at night. Eyes and ears will both be shut tight even before he finishes his narration. Our bedtime would coincide with the Parliament News at 9 and on Sundays with The World This Week.
I remember many small incidents, simple ones. Once my sister and I were dressed in identical PAVADAIs and playing down in the pathway. My dad wanted to click some pictures. Happily my sister came and hugged me from behind, circling my shoulders with her tiny hands. It was so sudden that I ended up accidentally swallowing an entire LEMON RAVALGON whose lemony taste I was relishing till that moment. Photo clicked!
Too many thoughts flash in front of my eyes. For a 5 year old, seems like I had a good memory. Or it is purely because the impact was such. A beautiful memory of a life so innocent.
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