This is a pic of the 2 people who
made my world. My Dad n Ma. In an age when things were so much simpler. In the
small town where I grew up.
I remember Dad taking me as a
toddler on walks to the big maidan behind our house. ‘There’s a crow sitting on
a cow’, he’d say, ‘let’s talk to them.’ So I’d babble away to the crow and it
would fly off. Rather rude, I’d think. Ever since I’ve preferred cows to crows!
My dad was funny and kind and such fun!
Coming home to Ma’s dining table
was the best part of a full day in the sun and the mud (and no germs dared come
near) - there was always something delicious. I’ve never inherited the cooking
gene, by the way - my table smells only of wood.
It was a time when ‘go fly a
kite’ really meant that. I learnt to fly kites, shoot marbles, jump walls, play
gilli-danda and scrape my knees. And I played with the Bahadur’s kids. There
were no malls. There was a main street full of shops and going out there on a
Saturday evening was the high point of the week. And eating out? That came once
a year – on report card day!
So back to this pic (I wish I
really could go back). Oh yes, I am in this pic. I’m in my mom’s tum. Dad
bought our first car to bring his precious baby girl home from hospital. And we
all drove together down memory lane!
