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Childhood and Muchness
Childhood stories are like the pages of a colorful sketchbook. Smudgy but beautiful. Incomplete but satisfying. The kind of art that doesn't make much sense but gives us enormous happiness. Let me show you a tiny glimpse of my sketchbook...
I turn the velvety thick papers of my old photo album and my mind goes back, picking up those memories once again. Amma, my mother, powdering my crying face, helping me to wear my uniform, combing my oily wet hair, fixing a white hair band, and tying up the laces of my black - polished shoes paired with the feathery white socks. My chechi, elder sister helped me, holding my hands, as i took the small lazy steps wearing the Mickey mouse and Donald duck imprinted heavy backpack!!! Oh... my hunched shoulders!
To be very honest, i never cared about my studies or even books!
I was never studious, no first bencher, careless with my pencils, i barely completed my notebooks or homework in time and was always under radar of my class teacher! My maths class teacher!
Ahem!!!
I was always excited to meet my friends. Aylen, Ramya and Monica. (I dont recall being much friends with other girls). That's what i loved about school. An endless chattering with these trio!!!
During summer, I watched how the school play ground green grass turned to rustic brown. I still hear the cackling and over thrilled echoes of voices, while we were running across the ground, chasing each other and also trying to save ourselves from being caught up. I still feel the rush of the breeze, so warm and fresh, bringing my lungs alive beneath my sweaty white collar-shirt and my legs jiving under the hemmed dark blue skirt. We took care of the tiny bruises with what we still call the green herbaceous leaves of the plant as 'bootti patti'! We were no medico experts and but had a pretty good idea about the healing qualities of that magical leaf. And when we were tired running, we would take off our shoes, only to experience an unpleasant odour of sweatiness and stinky socks, for which i still close my eyes and stick out my tongue!!!
There were my two favorite long ringing bell.
One for the mid-day meal.
We stood in a line holding the plates, waiting for our turns, while we prattled as the line slowly moved forward. The smoky flavor of charred chillies on Dal inflated my nostrils with a sense of joy and each day with a variety of veggies was quite delicious too. That big old banyan tree, a place where we played hide-and-seek, where we sat bickering about one another( mostly about the fiends!), where we shared stupid false and fake ghost stories, where we befriended many other girls into our tiny group, where we cried blaming on each other for silly things and laughed out loud on making silly jokes on our least favorite teachers!
It was also a resting place for an old lady. A Skinny tanned woman whom we often named (khatta - meetha aunty or ice-aunty!) who brought us bundles of joy, in the form of sweet & sour homemade sticky tamarind and berries (khatta-meetha), 20 inches long bright colourful ice sticks, sliced raw mangoes with chilli powder and black salt sprinkled on the top, and also some savoury snacks of one or two rupees, each.
Salivating, aren't you?
I feel it to!!!
And two for the end of the day.
We all rushing out of the gates, when i get to see my Achan, my father. He stood there waiting, with a sparkling smile, honking his 'Bajaj Chetak silver colored' scooter for my attention among my gleeful blabbering mates. Waving back at friends and holding tight to my father as he rides the scooter, clear blue sky above and the robusting growling sound of the scooter. And finally with amma and chechi, cartoons and evening snacks. It was a beautiful ending of my day at school.
Well, then comes the time to close the photo album, but always with a glowimg face in the end.
What a carefree life we have all lived in!
And every time the reality pulls me out of this gravity, I recall one of my favorite line from the book 'Alice in the wonderland' where the Mad hatter tells Alice,
"You're not the same as you were before. You were much more... 'muchier' .. you've lost your muchness."
Our thoughts are parallel, Mr Mad Hatter!
© ArtEcstatic
I turn the velvety thick papers of my old photo album and my mind goes back, picking up those memories once again. Amma, my mother, powdering my crying face, helping me to wear my uniform, combing my oily wet hair, fixing a white hair band, and tying up the laces of my black - polished shoes paired with the feathery white socks. My chechi, elder sister helped me, holding my hands, as i took the small lazy steps wearing the Mickey mouse and Donald duck imprinted heavy backpack!!! Oh... my hunched shoulders!
To be very honest, i never cared about my studies or even books!
I was never studious, no first bencher, careless with my pencils, i barely completed my notebooks or homework in time and was always under radar of my class teacher! My maths class teacher!
Ahem!!!
I was always excited to meet my friends. Aylen, Ramya and Monica. (I dont recall being much friends with other girls). That's what i loved about school. An endless chattering with these trio!!!
During summer, I watched how the school play ground green grass turned to rustic brown. I still hear the cackling and over thrilled echoes of voices, while we were running across the ground, chasing each other and also trying to save ourselves from being caught up. I still feel the rush of the breeze, so warm and fresh, bringing my lungs alive beneath my sweaty white collar-shirt and my legs jiving under the hemmed dark blue skirt. We took care of the tiny bruises with what we still call the green herbaceous leaves of the plant as 'bootti patti'! We were no medico experts and but had a pretty good idea about the healing qualities of that magical leaf. And when we were tired running, we would take off our shoes, only to experience an unpleasant odour of sweatiness and stinky socks, for which i still close my eyes and stick out my tongue!!!
There were my two favorite long ringing bell.
One for the mid-day meal.
We stood in a line holding the plates, waiting for our turns, while we prattled as the line slowly moved forward. The smoky flavor of charred chillies on Dal inflated my nostrils with a sense of joy and each day with a variety of veggies was quite delicious too. That big old banyan tree, a place where we played hide-and-seek, where we sat bickering about one another( mostly about the fiends!), where we shared stupid false and fake ghost stories, where we befriended many other girls into our tiny group, where we cried blaming on each other for silly things and laughed out loud on making silly jokes on our least favorite teachers!
It was also a resting place for an old lady. A Skinny tanned woman whom we often named (khatta - meetha aunty or ice-aunty!) who brought us bundles of joy, in the form of sweet & sour homemade sticky tamarind and berries (khatta-meetha), 20 inches long bright colourful ice sticks, sliced raw mangoes with chilli powder and black salt sprinkled on the top, and also some savoury snacks of one or two rupees, each.
Salivating, aren't you?
I feel it to!!!
And two for the end of the day.
We all rushing out of the gates, when i get to see my Achan, my father. He stood there waiting, with a sparkling smile, honking his 'Bajaj Chetak silver colored' scooter for my attention among my gleeful blabbering mates. Waving back at friends and holding tight to my father as he rides the scooter, clear blue sky above and the robusting growling sound of the scooter. And finally with amma and chechi, cartoons and evening snacks. It was a beautiful ending of my day at school.
Well, then comes the time to close the photo album, but always with a glowimg face in the end.
What a carefree life we have all lived in!
And every time the reality pulls me out of this gravity, I recall one of my favorite line from the book 'Alice in the wonderland' where the Mad hatter tells Alice,
"You're not the same as you were before. You were much more... 'muchier' .. you've lost your muchness."
Our thoughts are parallel, Mr Mad Hatter!
© ArtEcstatic
