Being the only boy child of your age (including +/-3 yrs) amongst your cousins has its impact and I guess I’ve been the wolf amongst the sheep.
As Chuck Palahniuk quotes “Every woman is just a different kind of problem.” And I faced them head-on. 🙂 Always fighting them and notorious for the things I did.
It was nothing but to get attention, to be involved, to be recognised. It was a fight for individuality.
I even played Kitchen Games with them and enjoyed Swings. (Swings were and are still a weakness for me.)
But a wolf ll always be a wolf in the herds of sheep. Standing out amongst them.
My name was a synonym for trouble. Well sometimes you do something, and you get screwed. Sometimes it’s the things you don’t do, but still you get screwed.
One tends to know by their shrill/shout or the way they call out your name. You can sense the danger or anger or fear and love in their voices.
But again I was loved by all for I’m always around and for anything that I do.
Things change, we grow old. When my cousins/relatives point at me and say to their children as to what a villain I was, I just smile away. I don’t have words to describe
Climbing up the mango tree to get mangoes even if you can reach them from ground; running around house and garden chasing demons; riding imaginary horses and swinging those imaginary swords in air going for the successful crusades (Oru Vadankan Veera Gatha was one of my favorite movies then); fighting those enemy bushes with your death-blow; racing behind the calf, dog and cats; honing your target skills on mangoes and the stray hen/cock; counting the ripples in the pond and listening to the splashes of stones thrown over water; disassembling the new toy gun and assembling them only to find a few ‘unwanted’ nuts, screws and springs which is nicely hidden away under the bed (Until mom finds out something poking); the case of missing bournvita jar; riding bicycles; disturbing every single person in the auto while going to school (Auto driver Babu Chettan used to tie my hands on railing so that I’m quiet but his action normally goes in vain); case of a cricket winning sixer for your team to neighbour’s window panes (and your man-of-the-moment award is nothing but getting beaten with broom for something as unintentional as a six. I still wonder why they built a house near to our playground and why a window facing our ground); Complaints from teachers and being known as “restless and talkative” in class; The darkness was something I did fear then (and I’d give credit to my mom for instilling that fear in me then. I believe as LeGu said in her guest post, it was nothing but fear of the dark which would stop me. But darkness prevailed for hardly 12 hours a day 🙂 And now I’m not afraid of darkness! ). Memories of childhood are not complete without your grandparents. They always made you feel special. Always there by your side.
It was our imagination and creative moments that makes our childhood enjoyable and memorable. We shall never recover from our childhood. Childhood is what we all miss dearly. Our perceptions of that wonderful period in life is what moves us, is what yields us, is what makes us what we are now. childhood is that time when all it takes is chocolate or ice cream or a ride in bicycle to make things happen. Chocolates were one of the very first luxurious good we sought out for.
Those were the days… *sighs*
Readers can share their childhood memories too. 🙂
PS: Readers who know me can share some moments/memories we had together. 😛
cc: Manu – this time u should write something if u r reading this. 🙂