Facts laced with a little bit of fiction- II- Childhood memoirs

In a child’s mind, the imagination always seems to run wild. There is nothing restrictive about it. It is carefree, innocent, boundless, and life is always seen through rose-tinted glasses. 

I would have been around five or six years old then. Wearing a summer frock with bold red flowers printed on it; my two well-oiled pigtails dangling in the air, I ran as fast as my little feet could carry me. Seated on a stone bench surrounded by shady trees, I dug my hands deep into the pockets stitched at the insides of my dress and got out my booty of hidden treasures; an oval shaped ivory colored stone, that had smoothened at the edges, a tiny exquisite shoe of my ragged doll which had glittering studs woven all around its heel, a half broken scented eraser and a packet containing colorful bindis. The bindis were stuck to a wafer thin piece of cellophane paper which had got wrinkled over time, but it was the striking round globules of different hues that held my rapt attention. I had seen Ma’s forehead adorning the same dots, red in color and slightly bigger in size and sometimes there would be a dash of red vermillion that would stand out from the parting of her hair. 

So caught up was I in playing with my treasure trove, that I failed to hear the rustling sound coming from the nearby shrubs. A sudden movement at the grass below made me look down to the sight of a thin frail baby mynah limping towards me. It had wounded its left wing, which suggested that it might have toppled from its nest perched above the giant peepal tree. Hurriedly stuffing my precious treasures back into my pockets I yanked at a nearby Taro leaf and gently placed the wounded bird on it. Nestling it on the massive leaf I then carried it home. By the time I rang my doorbell I could sense that the little bird had stopped moving. For a moment, I consoled myself thinking that it had fallen asleep, but there were warning signals shooting in my tiny brain that something was not right and a lot more had happened to it beyond sleep, the reason for which I couldn’t fathom whatsoever. Ma opened the door and one look at my pitiful face and the lifeless bird in my hand made her realize the enormity of the situation. 

That cold evening I squatted besides Ma and helped her dig a trench with my picnic shovel at the backyard of my building. As the shovel hit the dark red colored mud, I could feel my eyes brimming with tears, involuntarily. I felt disillusioned and cheated.  It was the first time I had seen death up so close. My hands felt cold and clammy as I stuck my head into my mother’s bosom hugging her tightly. Heavy sobs wreaked my little being. That cold wintry evening it dawned on me that nothing lives forever. People die, animals die, birds die, and the little baby mynah lying in front of me with its feet upturned was dead and even if Ma had chanted all the mantras she sang early morning to appease the divine the bird could not be revived. I had lost it forever.  

I probably cried myself to sleep that night. 

But the mornings adorned with its freshness and bountiful energy spelled new beginnings. It managed to clear off the muddle and the cast of gloom caused by the previous day’s incident. In addition there was always Ma waiting for me with her abundance of hugs. She was my hug factory then. One tight hug from her used to leave me with the warmest of feelings flowing within which used to be even better than her famous besan ladoos. 

I don’t hug her so often as I used to then… 

Adulthood comes along with its own packaged instructions. The Do's and the Don’ts created by our own insidious minds robs us from the simple pleasures of life. We grownups tend to assume this cloak of consciousness around us little failing to realize that our souls lying deep within are still so childlike. 

A hug, a touch, a comforting word is sometimes all that one requires to get through life’s toughest battles. 

For me hugs matter a lot. Least of all it doesn’t come along with any "packaged instructions" stating that it is injurious to health. So if you haven’t hugged anyone lately, go do it now. It could be anyone... A friend, a lover, a child or even your pet…

And if it’s your Mum squeeze her even more:)

xxx