The memories of my childhood.

I still remember when on one of the eves of Children’s Day, I had asked my neighbour why she was going to college in uniform. After all, it was children’s day and she should be celebrating like I was about to celebrate at school (I was only 10 back then). She laughed a little and said, “I ain't-a kid anymore”. It was kind of funny to me. Back then I was under the impression that whoever was still studying and living with parents was a child. It seems funny when I think of my immaturity now. I sometimes wonder, wasn’t back then, everything very simple? We could find happiness in the smallest of things and cry to the loudest when things weren’t going well.  As we grow up we fake smile for things that we aren’t okay with and bury our heads into the pillows during the darkest of the nights to compensate with the compromises we make. Maybe that’s why they say a child’s heart is the purest because there’s nothing that a child hides. Or probably there’s nothing that the child thinks worth hiding.

I think of all this when I see the various writing pages putting up themes for writing about childhood within a limit of words. And clearly there cannot be any word limit for describing an extremely important part of our lives.

I was this little bundle of cuteness back then when I was kid (I know I’m self-obsessed). All I ever wanted was attention. I wouldn’t mingle with people but then I wanted them to talk to me, pamper me. I would cry for the stupidest of reasons and make a scene. And probably for that and for being very grumpy, apart from my parents and a few people here and there nobody really pampered me.

“Jawaharlal Nehru was born on 14^th November 1889. He loved to be around children and hence his birthday is also called as children’s day”. These were the lines from my English essay about Jawaharlal Nehru that I was taught in 3^rd or 4^th grade at school. No other fact about the personality had settled in my mind so well other than the lines above. After studying this I would wait for children’s day eagerly. It was only on this day when we could actually wear colourful clothes and go to school just to play. “All play and no studies” would be the motto for the day at school. Unlike today when this is an everyday motto at college.

As years passed by nothing really changed at school when children’s day came. Be it in grade 5 or 10 we would still wait for the day and celebrate. Though our methods of celebrations changed, we did not.

I still remember, it was in my 10^th grade and we weren’t celebrating children’s day in the usual colourful clothes way. The school was getting ready for its annual Sports Day meet. The rehearsals were going on and those who weren’t participating stayed in the class. That wasn’t the usual rule but then it was children’s day and we could do anything we wished.  So, we were in the class playing with a football (we were playing” catch the ball” with a football). And out of nowhere my “always busy” crush enters the classroom and begins to play with us. Like it happens in the movies I began to blush but tried to hide it and act as though his presence didn’t affect me. This happened for a while and the noise we created made our principal come to our room. Our classrooms had projectors and watching us play with the huge ball, our principal warned us of damaging it, chided us for a few minutes and left and with her, my crush left as well. The principal’s chiding didn’t affect me as much as my crush’s leaving did.

That was the last year we celebrated children’s day and after that year I learnt why my neighbour had told that she was no more a kid. I realized that after graduating from school no one expects you to act like a kid and hence you have to start living like a grown up.

Over the years that have passed I’ve realized that we might age and grow old but then reminisce those days and wanting to go back into that time remains.  Talking of childhood can be such a joyful thing to do. The memories revitalize us and bring lots and lots of laughter to those we tell our stories too.

My stories of childhood aren’t really special or funny in any way but then they’re the priceless possessions I have. Everyone’s childhood is special to them and then it should be special because that’s the only phase we wish we could go back to but then even the most genuine and strongest prayers shall not take us there.