Gathering bits of pearls that sparkle on the path of the memory lane, worth the nostalgic efforts and making the grand lace of memoir is what I seriously love doing and redoing any number of times. The bits of pearls are those times of my good old past/ a recent past, and the grand lace will be this entire post.
Well in mid thirties today, and is definitely the phase as I muse over the past, that taught me all this while the lessons of life and nevertheless to mention the important part of all this happens to be the childhood. There have been countless moments countless thoughts in my mind on the subject and more so as I saw my seven year old grow up. I happily abandoned my career for a phase of 3 years and spent the best part of my life with J[Lets shorten her name so for you]. I have absolutely no words to express this yet penning down few moments might exhaust my dictionary but not the feelings. They are immortal.
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Again I muse where do I begin, as the thoughts have been randomly bubbling throughout in my mind to the extent that shaping it into one lace is my job now! That phase of J grow up has been the times I feel myself in my best as a woman, mother and a daughter too. Feeling like a mom and feeling a mom was really enchanting and learning period. I am caught in act of pursuit of my reflection in every activity of J.
The best co-incidence was in me and J spending our year 1 to year 3 close to the Konkan-coast. It seems I was taken down to the sea-shore that was just 1 kilometer on back our residence in my age 2. The repeat version of this was when J grew up playing every evening in the sands of Surathkal beach. Obviously I don't remember the monkeys of north Karnataka robbing another robber. Age 3, I would just abscond with the "milk powder" box and one day only to be robbed away by a monkey on the mango tree who prowled on me sitting in balcony relishing milk powder. But my parents can laugh at it even today. Even worst was when I decided to run away leaving my dads hands only to be chased by a bull and return sobbing to my dad. They muse me today, as I point my index at J, as her punishments for her little pranks. All the footwear lined up beautifully in shoe rack would mesmerize her onto either tasting them or strewing them around in my living room or hurl some down the balcony. If she was found missing I had interesting places to find her. Inside her wardrobe, near the washing machine enjoying the sound as it ran, under my huge rosewood dining set lost under the opened news paper of her dad. At times even the pooja room where she would find different instruments that made sound or even colours [kumkum and haldi that are used by Hindus-check info here]. Not much unbelievable but at age 2 I would rock myself front and back listening to bhajans, and contrasting to it was J's upbringing listening to audio and video CD's of nursery rhymes.
Our preadolescent times punishments were surely adventurous. My olden times ancestral house had a huge attic for stocking tender coconuts illuminated by a old rusty bulb and had only a 2x4 foot door space & was the place I would be threatened to kept in for the pranks that I played and also for unattended food! My grandmother would create a havoc when one morning she would discover a missing tumbler in her bathroom that I hid, or her missing Vicco turmeric cream that too which I would squeeze out and use all over my body, or my grandpas missing hawai's found in the study drawers!! But today my J isn't a tom boy like me. Either she isn't or she is busy for that! She attends art and Ballet classes in disciplined fashion unlike how we grew up. She's unable to imagine with exact gravity, how could we ever make mud balls and call them laddoos, or simply jump into neighbour's compound when it was play time. How could one go without giving a call first, she exclaims today.
There was always a difference. I had purely been open to the nature, playing in the big coconut yards, on the guava trees [they were easy to climb and had nicely made up kind of branches to settle down playing even a game like scrabble!]. I could peep into the open well, even pull water from it at age 13. My J has more luxirious options of her electronic gadgets, intellectual ideologies of play and playmates, internet and Google and so on. She has the whole digital and online world and for me was the totally offline environment with fresh air and lot of free time. Quite a few of my older posts here & there do have plenty of mentions of particular pasts.
Life goes on. And I continue to flow with it. Switching roles and comparing them being a mother and a daughter, from the time she held my thumb. A real 100 % experience, that can neither be felt by the words that described them here not could be re-felt with same gravity. They are golden days. Only to be cherished today. Memoirs revoked by my little one who held my thumb.
Cheers,
Sush
