Remember when dad used to sing in the loo? Remember when mom used to recite her favorite hymns? Remember that sumptous meal that gran cooked up for every festival (especially the obbatu*?) Remember sleeping with grandad under a starry night listening to his stories? Remember when life was still all about kicking off your school shoes, wriggling out of your school uniform & getting into that comfortable bermudas and banian and running out to play ignoring mom's threats about broken legs?
Everytime that songs plays on DD rangoli, everytime you hear a remix of mom's hymns, everytime its that festival, everytime you manage to use the trivia that grandad told you when you were a kid, everytime you spend your weekend in front of the computer because ..."well, there isnt anything else to do - is there?", these memories creep up.
I hope my daughter makes up her memories - I try singing the same lullabies that dad used to sing (terribly offkey though), try and put on the same hymns on the mobile (I never memorised them), try cooking up something each festival (though it hopelessly remains unedible), and play silly games with her - trying to relive my life through her, trying to make some memories for her. most of the times its fun, but yes, sometimes it hurts.
2 comments:
I hope she grows up with many-many fond memories to look back to :)
they're such an essential part of who we are, without us even realizing that!
Interesting text. You have a nice blog. Keep it up!
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