Growing Up

The Early Years  ( Page three of your autobiography)

“There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning are more fragrant than ever again” .- Elizabeth Lawrence

Another exciting morning. Through the big bedroom window I could see the beautiful golden sun-beams  trickled through the branches. Yes that was pretty, but I enjoyed more of the beautiful hum of  prayer of my grand mother from the up-stair room . Then the sounds of rattling containers of tin and glasses, shuffling and sorting a collection of metal pots from the big kitchen in down-stair sounded like a culinary orchestra tuning up. Something impressive was being created by the chef. Suddenly I remembered about the cute puppy whom I rescued from the side of the road and left him in one small room on the side of the staff quarters with a small bowl of milk. I climbed down the stairs in fast feet but the flight of steps seemed endless. I opened the door.”Hi!” I whispered, crouching down to enfold the wiggling brown puppy in my arm. He had long droopy ears, white legs and a small brown tail with a white tip. I scratched him behind the ear and sat there on the floor holding him on my lap. ‘ Are you missing your mom? ‘ I asked him softly and kissed his head. We spend a long time playing with each other until I heard my name.

‘Yes grand ma. Did you call me?’ I said and pulled the dining chair closer to her.I glanced at the breakfast and the big cup of milk on the table. I swiped my bang from my forehead and said, ‘ But I am not hungry and I do not want any milk. Please.’

My grandmother knew all the tricks. She pulled me closer to her lap and said,’ Sure, you are not hungry but I am planning to tell you a long story about a brave king and then after that to visit the book store to get some books for you. If you finish your breakfast then we can go otherwise ..’

‘Wait. I will finish everything. Go ahead with the story first.’ I said with a small smile and started eating the breakfast. The beautiful picture of the books were already floating in my mind.

It was a pretty day just like the other days. I was almost four and half, that I heard from one of my aunt as she was helping me to wear a light blue dress. It had small white flowers on the neck and lots of frill and white lace, one of my favorite. My aunt was trying to make a nice pony-tail before her friends come to visit and I knew their game plan; her friends will sing songs and I have to figure out that song from the right movie and then I will be showered with hugs and kisses. That was not much fun than spending time with the books; my magic land. My grand- mother brought a lots of coloring books and a few picture books from the store. I could not wait to see the books.

The other day in the early morning I walked downstairs, twisted the door knob and walked into the front porch.  I climbed up onto a small chair and sat with a coloring book and four pencils; red, yellow, orange and a blue. I liked the quietness of the morning but then I looked through the big steel door with bars.There was a beggar with her two small kids and a dog. She was begging for money or food for her family. I did not know what to do. It is hard to see others beg for anything so I ran inside to the storage room and brought a handful of raw rice, a few bananas and a small bowl of milk for the dog. I looked around for the guard but he was not at the door, so I pushed the door with my little hands. A smile spread from the mother’s tightly pressed mouth to her cheeks and almost up to her hair. Her happiness bounce and touched me.

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9 thoughts on “Growing Up

  1. krishnakumarpradhan says:

    In an area known as kokan lbordering the Arabian sea.where I spent my childhod,I used to gaze at the vivid combinationof colours when I loked at the hills,green colour of the shrubs and rice fields which grew even on the hills,and red cothe lour of the earth,a speciality of the area

    Like

  2. krishnakumarpradhan2 says:

    At least apart of it is pleasant,when,forexample someone takes you out once aweek toclimb the hills with greenery around and the re light of the setting sun in front of you not to mtntion thesour and sweat taste of the fresh black berries

    Like

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