When I was about 4 years old, I broke my arm. I had tried to squeeze into a shelf with my teddy bears, and found myself stuck. I un-stuck myself a few seconds later, only to have a cast on my arm a few hours later. I dint know autographs on casts were fad. I decorated it with mud instead
I absolutely loved going to school. My parents didn't. In the going to school ordeal, I tore about 3 of my Amma's saris, bit my ammumma some 50 times, kicked my achan and made our neighbors rush into our home, with my bawling. No wonder we changed homes every two years
Going to the post office with my Muthassan was my favourite pastime. Especially because my muthassan always told my ammumma that he wouldn’t take her to the post office. I felt jubilant and marched off after my grandfather, happy to stick stamps on with the very murky and smelly glue.
I had to walk barefoot in my school once, for not wearing the proper school shoes. Luckily on unluckily, I said the pledge that day in the assembly. I tried in vain to shut out the sniggering and giggling. Needless to say, my pledge went India is my country. All Indians are my brothers and sisters. I sob... shall always. Sniff sniff. Sob...waaa.....waaa.... they still did not however, let me wear my shoes.
I thought that being a vegetarian was boring. I tried to pass off the dried mango pieces in my lunch box as meat balls. No one believed me.
The first time I was on stage for a dance, I was thrilled at the idea of wearing lipstick. My muthassan spoilt it all by asking the make up person not to put it for me as lip stick contained toxic ingredients.
I told my achan off for not letting me sing all that I wanted to. I was on stage, mic in front of me and around 100 people looking at me. My father was compering. It was a banker's union family meet.
When I was in kindergarten, a boy in my class had a white birthmark under his eyes which looked as if a tear was running across his cheeks. I refused to wipe away my tears for a very long time to get a similar mark. It never happened that way.
14 comments:
this is s nostalgic! :)
ammu.
Too good...So happy to hear about ammoomma and muthassan..you have a different style..without the loss of cultural threads..it is a gift.Why can't you start a series..?
i have added you...
lipstick on children makes me angry Vrinda, i insist on removing it, i love taking pictures of children.
i am a slow reader and i read your post in one breath, such a smooth flow in your writing, its a gift. please read Ruth and Mystic Rose's blogs they are terrific writers. i have no such gift, i tippity type happily what comes to my mind and don't even spell check.
My first day at school was very pleasant, that happened some 150 years ago, long before Gandhiji went to school.
@tulip speaks
nostalgia it so is :) thank you fro the visit...
@ MIP
for me nothin can replace the affection tht ammumma n muthassan and amma n achan gives me...dad, mom, grandda, grandmom...well they r ok..but just not me :)
and thanks a lot for linking me :)
@rauf
surely you are older than that!! :D
and will surely read the blogs you mentioned :)
Snapshots of school life. It's strange - the memories that stay behind.
@preeti
i agree...sometimes those things which apparently have no great significance pop up and leave us glass eyed and wishful and create a wonderful imagery in the mind...
Haha! i was imagining you crying in the assembly while doing your pledge .. My sides are aching like hell ! hahaa ! :D
@ ajay
oh yeah!! :P
last line...was touching..really...
tht was really sweet! i was reminded of my first time on stage- i too was really thrilled when they had me put on the lipstick.. bt my uncle wiped it off b4 i went to the stage :(
superb! :)
@neermathalam...
touching? hmmm...i meant it to be funny!!sigh guess i failed :)
@matangi...
whats up with groen ups and lipsticks?? :D
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