Tempest

Saturday, 10 February 2007

Wonder years

'Do you have siblings?', has always been the most popular question to ask a child in social gatherings.
'No. I am the only child.' I'd reply with a polite smile mentally wishing I could record it as it was possibly the umpteenth time I'd been asked that question in one night.
'Oh so you are a single kid?', would respond a middle aged, semi drunk gentleman thinking he'd made the most imaginative comeback!
'No. I am an only child. I've never felt single,' I'd quip with another polite laugh.
'hmmm so you must be very pampared?' he'd continue oblivious to my obvious boredom.
'ha ha no not really,' would come my prompt indignant and embarrassed reply.

I have never been pampered. I have never been given everything I ever asked for at the drop of a pin. I have never been allowed night after night of going out and having fun. I have never been allowed to laze around in bed and get 5 extra hours of sleep. I have never been allowed to order around the helpers we had at home. I have always walked the one or two extra kilometers to school or college. I have never bought things impulsively swayed by whims. I have always had a bath before going to school no matter how cold, no matter how dark. I have always finished whatever was put on my plate whether I liked it or not. I have never been allowed to use sickness as an excuse to miss an exam or even classes. I have never been allowed to go back on my word. I would always have to go meet a friend even when I didn't want to if I had promised I would. Such were the laws that governed my life as a kid. I would always get indignant and embarrassed when asked if I were pampered.

When I was in class 2 my dad very religiously would look at my time-table and pack my bag for me every morning. Routinely, once a week I'd admonish him for forgetting a vital notebook. Today, on some days when I get up late and run for class I occassionally forget a book or my access card in my urgency. I can't simply call up home and ask mom to get it for me, I walk back home just to retrieve what I forgot. All my life most of the larger than life writings and drawings on charts (which means basically the entire chart) were always done by my mom. Today, by some stroke of luck I end up designing all the charts in group presentations. Whenever I used to forget to take my towel with me to bath, one shout and my mom would magically apparate from anywhere with one. Now, my room has to regularly suffer a few uncomfortable puddles. When I'd come back home after a day in college I'd try to convince mom that noodles is a much more wholesome meal than dal chawal and sabzi. Now when I come back home from another unproductive day, I have to motivate myself to make the same dal chawal....and it does taste yummy. The house was always stocked, never had to stop and think about it twice...I wonder how and when my parents found the time to make sure we never ran out of basic commodities which in those days included special moisturiser and night cream as well. Now at the blink of an eye I seem to run out of necessary wares and have to go grocery shopping almost every two days! When I had fever I'd be made to sleep comfortably and given vegetable soup. Now I not only have to make the soup myself I also have to get up and check whos at the door at at the sound of a knock because nobody else is there to do it. When chocolate pastry was bought, I'd always be given the biggest and maximum number of pieces in spite of the fact that my dad loves them equally and probably has a much bigger appetite. he'd walk me to school sometimes and we'd talk about what I wanted to do next in life. I'd frown throughout a rare day of shopping for household goods with mom and she'd still be interested and smiling through my often, painfully long and indecisive sprees for clothes shopping. They'd remember every little detail of what my preferences are and I would by default almost always forget little requests like turn off the lights when you leave the room. Every movie we'd watch would be of my choice. Every night I'd listen to music at the highest volume and sing loudly ignorant of my parents who would patiently try to listen to their soap over my defeaning sounds.

An only child I am, but not single. Loved, adored, indulged have I been since as far as I can remember.

'Lend me old years and I'll sing you songs....I will try not to sing out aloud.'

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Now, I can't wait for someone to ask me whether I was pampered. No wait... someone did ask me a few days ago...

'Absolutely and thoroughly', was my reply.

Posted by Pavitra :: 11:12 :: 9 comments