A child’s diary

I was reading ‘swami and friends’, last week; the book has always been a subtle reminder of my amusing experiences as a child! But unlike and like swami, I spent the better half of my innocence in a small colony in trivandrum, with two dear friends – Nandu and Ninju.

We were inseparable playmates who fought, laughed, cried and shared every puerile emotion together. Life then was a happy-go-lucky routine... School, play, Padmanabha swami temple, homework, dinner and sleep!! Amidst the visits to the temple of the reclining god and instances of sheer laughter, the three of us had created a world where we spent the best days of our lives.

Our wantonness could make a ‘Divya and Friends’ for itself ; If I were to look back at time twenty one years ago it wouldn't be complete without the little-big things that made it happen --
The time we made a castle at the beach and cried when the sea washed it away; when we were 'the famous three' and dug the roots of a coconut tree, hoping to find treasure, which all started from an architect’s view of the house! ; the funniest fashion show we put up for the elders to watch, when the most novel dress was a skirt worn around the neck ; the times we got dressed for the evening 'kolatam' ( south indian dandia ) during navaratri ; the carnatic music lessons we took hoping to turn it into ‘kacheris’ someday ; the evening we painted the entire colony road with our ‘kolam’ practice ; the cultural fest we organized with three participants – Ninju, nandu and Divya ; the days we fought over stamps which would go into the obscure philatelist's bag; the “secret’s secret” group we formed to be clandestine of our supposed missions ; the evenings we indulged in lock and key and the times we fell and let those knees and elbows bleed ; the weekends we spent learning to cycle at ‘traffic park’ ; the crackers we burst during diwali ; the Christmas carols we made up ; the little stories we enacted in our immure play room ; the feast we made with our kitchen sets ; the times we would swing for hours on the ‘atukatil’ and never get tired of it ; the day we enjoyed ‘beauty and the beast’ in theatre for the children’s film festival ; the little picnics we had on the terrace ; the days we cried, laughed and chattered enthralled by the smallest of things that made us who we are…

Life was never better and a mesmerized childhood could never get better … Away from worries, away from sadness… pure fun and true happiness… As I look the picture of the three of us hugging each other on the swing, I can’t help but feel that the child in us still remains…..