As this Mother’s Day is fast approaching, I am kind of lost in reflection as I always do around this time. I feel happy to be a mother to a lovely, charming daughter, but I still think of my childhood.
Here are some thoughts that are creeping up in my mind of late.
It’s weird how age catches up with us without a warning. How with our lost childhood, we stopped being a child as well. We realize how beautiful our childhood was when we are already grown up and can do nothing about it. That’s the irony of life.
Now as I sit observing my little daughter and the things that she does, I miss being a child.
From where did the bountiful energy come? To play tirelessly. When I was a 5-year old, I knew only hopping, jumping and running around, and wondered why my mother never hopped or jumped. I would take stairs two at a time, but she climbed slowly. I am, sadly, the mother now.
Never thought about tomorrow. Tomorrow was a word that didn’t hold any relevance. All that mattered was now. And now was very beautiful and full of exciting things. I wanted to play in ‘now’, eat in ‘now’ and sleep in ‘now. Tomorrow was another world and not very important.
Lived free as a bird. Responsibility was another word that I didn’t know or care about. I ate when I felt hungry, drank when I was thirsty and slept when my body told me too. Had I completed my homework? It was not my headache but my mama’s.
I couldn’t care less for the money. All I was interested in was collecting coins for my little pink piggy bank to buy chocolates, toys and more toys. Such happy times were they! Sigh!
I loved eating. Carbs, proteins, cholesterol, LDL, HDL, diabetes…what’s that? If my weight increased, that was a good sign, right? Why oh, why, my food has become poison now?
When sun meant playing outside, rains meant getting soaked and mud meant getting dirty. When did things change? Why do I now feel hot when it’s sunny, avoid puddles and grumble when I see dirt?
I shop and shop, but I have nothing to wear. What beautiful days were they when shopping meant buying chocolates, the talking doll that my neighbour had and the same tiffin box/pencil box/water bottle that my friend carried to school.
When good and bad were simple. Anybody who gave me sweets was good and anybody who didn’t share was bad. Anybody who played with me was good and anybody who shouted was bad. That was the only good and bad I knew, and not this good touch-bad touch.
I had so much time; to watch a snail’s journey in the park, to look for the lost cricket ball even when there was no light and to pick up fights for a friend. Why now the time slips away so quickly? And why I never have the time to do these things?
When little things made me happy. The pretty colours of a butterfly or a rainbow in the sky, the pink candyfloss and the 50 paise toffee on a birthday.
When life was simple. My day started with my parents and ended there. There was no problem that didn’t get solved sitting in the lap of my father and there was no hurt that didn’t go away when my mother kissed it. The arms and laps of my parents were my safe-house. Sadly, as I grew bigger than their arms and laps, so did my problems.
Sometimes, I wonder why did I want to grow up at all? Weren’t those days better? I miss being a child. Do you too?