Sunday, December 8, 2013

Memories ...


Going down the memory lane always brings so much of smiles and tears and remind us how far we have travelled. Prompts always make me blank. And when this prompt was given I wanted to this that  and everything but the only thing that came up in my mind was my childhood memories. So why not have a walk through some initial years of my wonder years...??

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Most pampered child (Three years old)

Dad was working for Spinney's in Sharjah. And every evening mom, sis and me used to go to the nearby church and on the way back we stop at the shop and from there Dad could join us. Now been the child of a senior employee there, I had full privilege to roam around the place without anyone questioning me but instead could lavish all the love and pamperings as little kids of all the "uncles" were back in their respective countries. And the sweetest memory was marching up and down chocolate filled racks as if feeling I'm the Princess of some chocolate Kingdom! No wonder I'm still obsessed with these. 

The sweet child became a wailing child (Six years)

Except for Dad we all shifted back to Kerala and I joined a Convent School which was at walk-able distance from my house. And there was whole gang to accompany me to school everyday as there were so many students and teachers as my neighbours. But I hated going to school. I couldn't accept the concept of spending the entire day in school as I was used to have classes till noon. So every morning religiously I cried wailed loudly from home to school even without bothering that I was walking through the main road. All in a single hope that mom could show sympathy and let me bunk school. But Mom's never do that! Sigh! Like that I became the "crying child" of that residence. 

Wailing child got her first enemy (Nine years) 

Relocated again. This time to Doha. Place, school, friends, home..... everything was new and fine except for..... Hindi! I never had that subject/language to study. But in Indian schools in ME they teach that from KG so by the time you reach your 4th grade you're excepted to be fluent in the language. And here I'm who doesn't even knew the alphabets was given fiction, non fictions and poems to learn. Exam started and when the marks came I was among the toppers till Hindi the Villain came. I gloriously failed. Was given extra coaching but I started hating the subject. My hatred was so strong that I couldn't cope up. The day the year got completed I announced, "I'm going back to India to my old school". Mom got dumbstruck. Relocating again was not even an option. And they were like "If you're going, you should go alone and stay in the boarding" .... but do you think the stubborn Goddess in me could listen. No way! 

How the enemy changed her life (Ten years) 

Joined back to the Convent School. I desperately wanted to kick myself when my Dad actually said goodbye and went off to the airport after settling me in the boarding. 
"What the hell was I thinking? Aren't they my parents? Can't they not let me go?" These were going in my mind and eyes were twinkling with tears. But pride in me could never let my Dad see my tears. But during bedtime every ounce of stubbornness and pride melt off. I cried myself to sleep as it was my first day away from home after my birth. 

And I officially declared Hindi as my enemy that day cos it ended up me in a boarding school when I was so happily growing up with so much of pamperings! 

But I actually enjoyed my years there, despite the initial homesickness. And it's a place I still miss so dearly cos it made me so independent that Mom didn't even allow me to go away from home town for college. ;)

All these were tucked deep down in the memory threshold and even when we miss our past the treasure chamber called memories let us relieve them once again. 


"Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading."  —  Kazuo Ishiguro (Never Let Me Go)







I am taking part in Second Write Tribe Festival of Words 8th-14th December 2013. The theme for the day is Memory/Memories. 




20 comments :

  1. Nice one there, Sheethal. Little by little, I'm getting to know this awesome person :)

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  2. Aha! You studied in a boarding school! Would love to know your stories and tales from your B school :)

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  3. You've shared some lovely memories. I too declared Hindi as an enemy when I was in school, though I enjoyed studying Marathi.

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  4. Sweet, Sheetal. What an independent young miss you must have been! Was looking forward to some boarding school tales. Perhaps your food post? ;)

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  5. So that's the way you were moulded into what you are now ;)

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  6. Sweet memories. I, too, failed in Hindi at school but grew up loving it. I can speak good Hindi but cannot write. I still regret not be able to write in Devanagiri:(
    www.vishalbheeroo.wordpress.com

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  7. A short but succinct autobiography. Amazing, how some posts suddenly make you feel you know the author so well. Or even that you learnt something about your own self as you learnt something about her. A lovely account here!

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  8. My son hates Hindi. Nice to read and know about your childhood tantrums and love for chocolates.

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  9. Aww!! That was sweet!! I failed in Hindi in 5th std too in the first test!!
    But, picked it up little by little later on!! :)

    that was a beautiful collection of memories!! I could picture you as a child so vividly!!

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  10. I loved reading this and getting a picture of the girl you were and the person you now are. ♥

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  11. Lovely post, gave us a glimpse into your childhood, at least the schooling part starting with Dubai, moving to Kerala, then to Doha and then to boarding school. Man, you have quite a story to write with just these experiences themselves, don't you :)

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  12. Loved how you grew the memory over the years. Look forward to some boarding school tales.

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  13. we all think we've forgotten these memories.. but it just takes something like this to release the floodgates again.. so many small things which seemed insignificant back then.

    http://www.godyears.net/2013/12/memories-those-bloody-juniors.html my take on the prompt.

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  14. nice!!! that was quite an insight into u as a kid!! great memories these!!

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  15. A cute collection. I feel very sad to tell you hindi was (is) my enemy too :|

    Richa

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  16. Ha ha..I did not get along with Hindi too :) my teacher hated me...:p lovely post..

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  17. interesting...sounds like a good collection of memory. I am surprised that they teach Hindi in Doha.

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  18. Hmm hmm so u were a little imp from then huh ;)

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  19. I am catching up on the Write Tribe, one by one.

    I have two things in common with you - Absolutely detests Hindi. Did my schooling in Doha

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