The very first thing that comes to my mind when I say childhood is undoubtedly the green and cream shade uniform with a tiny belt along with perfectly oiled hair and braided plaits. This goes back to the time when my family was living in Kumta, a small town in Uttara Kannada district. My dad’s job often exposed us to new cultures, diverse traditions, and environment. It was always a learning experience for my brother and me. Our house was surrounded by lush green trees and every shade of flower you could possibly think. Our only companions were a dog named Tommy and a bunch of friends from a nearby locality. Memories of my stay in Kumta include the mini-gun fights that we used to have in our neighbor’s house, the hide and seek games under the huge jackfruit and mango trees, and walking all around my locality with my doggy. Tommy was the only dog with whom I felt safe considering the fact that I am not a dog lover. Sunday afternoons were always engaged in dancing to ‘I’m a Barbie Girl’ song that my brother played on the computer and completing my pre-kindergarten homework with questions like What is your name, What is your father’s name and this is when I realized that my dad’s signature is pretty complicated and was fascinated about his unique handwriting. I had exactly two friends in school and I still wonder where they are and what they are doing. Since my brother is three years elder to me, his class timings were extended by an hour. Hence the school van always dropped me back home an hour before. It was pretty impossible for a six-year-old to open the huge gate and enter the premises of the house all by herself. Also, the gate was made of wooden logs, and the geometry of the gate was almost rectangular. So the tiny me would manage to throw the bag into the rectangular frame of the gate first and then would squeeze into the tiny space. I can still picture myself crossing the wooden gate into the premises of the house. This is one of the sweetest memories I have of my childhood. After entering the house, my mom would always question as to how I managed to enter and that grin on my face would make my mother so proud.The very first thing that comes to my mind when I say childhood is undoubtedly the green and cream shade uniform with a tiny belt along with perfectly oiled hair and braided plaits. This goes back to the time when my family was living in Kumta, a small town in Uttara Kannada district. My dad’s job often exposed us to new cultures, diverse traditions, and environment. It was always a learning experience for my brother and me. Our house was surrounded by lush green trees and every shade of flower you could possibly think. Our only companions were a dog named Tommy and a bunch of friends from a nearby locality. Memories of my stay in Kumta include the mini-gun fights that we used to have in our neighbor’s house, the hide and seek games under the huge jackfruit and mango trees, and walking all around my locality with my doggy. Tommy was the only dog with whom I felt safe considering the fact that I am not a dog lover. Sunday afternoons were always engaged in dancing to ‘I’m a Barbie Girl’ song that my brother played on the computer and completing my pre-kindergarten homework with questions like What is your name, What is your father’s name and this is when I realized that my dad’s signature is pretty complicated and was fascinated about his unique handwriting. I had exactly two friends in school and I still wonder where they are and what they are doing. Since my brother is three years elder to me, his class timings were extended by an hour. Hence the school van always dropped me back home an hour before. It was pretty impossible for a six-year-old to open the huge gate and enter the premises of the house all by herself. Also, the gate was made of wooden logs, and the geometry of the gate was almost rectangular. So the tiny me would manage to throw the bag into the rectangular frame of the gate first and then would squeeze into the tiny space. I can still picture myself crossing the wooden gate into the premises of the house. This is one of the sweetest memories I have of my childhood. After entering the house, my mom would always question as to how I managed to enter and that grin on my face would make my mother so proud.
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