A Walk To The Park

      My Mother had gone to Church Gate to buy something for my nursery school that I would be joining soon, as it had been the major matter of discussion among my parents and our family friends since morning. I really did not understand then on why my going to school was such an amusement to them, as all I could understand was soon I shall be going in a Mini Van designed in the form of a steam locomotive.

Due to this new promotion of mine, to the Nursery School, I was being educated on how to share, draw figures and identify fruits and alphabets for now over a week, that somehow I had mugged up the entire book of Alphabets, Fruits and had drawn so many figures like circles, squares, rectangles and pyramids. They all seemed like the toughest of Gospels and Vedas records that I had understood. But all seemed so interesting  and exciting, that my stomach was making ticklish rumble, every time I picked and learnt something new and understand the World I was being introduced to. Every new thing learnt was an achievement for my parents, and that is where I understood the ladder to my never ending Mt. Everest of Education and the preamble to knowledge had started and lush of Etiquette's were laid to me. Starting from the manner of greeting, clothing, eating and time-tables being induced. I was for sure my Naval Father's little commanding officer, as he saw in me the gentleman brooding and cultivating to be embarked. As my mother polished me in these activities and allowed the freedom of thought and self endurance. 

The evening fell again, and again like every evening the Double Deckers raced against the traffic and a typical tone by the conductors patiently notifying ASTE LADIEZ, to the women and college didi's trying to desperately rush through the wee traffic, in his own English. 

I was dressed smartly in my Army Uniform, holding my Father's first finger and walking beside him to the City Park. As we entered, at entrance, was written Colaba  Woods in golden, as my Father recited the words in alphabetical order to me. Few steps in, I saw Mother walking towards us in her flawless red saree as her hair fluttered magnificently in the evening wind and her smile, so refreshing, soothing to the most impatient person. As I ran to her, she bent on her knees to grasp me and her perfume was amiable to the surroundings, that it must have enlightened all passing us. She kissed my cheeks, with her lipstick flashing gallantly on them, as she started to show all she had bought for me, but all I was happy about was to see her. 

My Father came from behind and hugged her as soft as it could have ever been and slight ignorantly to the people walking past, after all it was India in the 80's. He picked me over his shoulders and ran towards the swings, as I smiled and gigled feeling top of the world and all looked so small. After the swings were over, my Mother suggested my Father to hop me onto the Horse's back, to make me have my first horse ride ever.

The evening was flowing so splendidly that sitting on the horse, which gave many children a shriek, I forgot my fears as my Father held the horses' string around his mouth firmly smiling at me, raising my confidence, and the horse rider made me patiently sit on the saddle, affixing my feet attached to the saddle and telling me to hold firm. Slowly the horse tip-toed and walked, and thus started my first horse ride. The air gushed through my hair as I hopped and cheered, must have made other parents and their children envy looking at my childish expressions, I looked at my parents as they had their eyes fixed on me, my Mother must have lost her breath to every step the horse took, but she polished it away in her smile. 

Finally, the horse ride had finished and we were walking out the City Park and I was imagining my adventure relishing a nice cotton candy, walking between my parents, holding my Father's finger, as Mother spoke about the preparation of dinner to him. After a hearty meal as much my little stomach allowed and choosing my designed bites given by Mother to me, I felt the sleep over-powering me, to which I gave in.

Earliest Memory and what I thought then - The Evening It Began

        What could be the youngest thought a person can have? Ever imagined that. Sometimes we see ourselves, as that little baby in a cradle or in a porch or park, where the sun shines on our round cute cheeks, with breeze so tender, as never felt till date, or as a baby, running with a spray gun, or as a little daddy's and mummy's child, who is being clutched feeling so shy and tender.

Well to say, the youngest thought is the first thing, your brain can capture, of those early days where you started feeling touch, taste and those thoughts of strangely moving images that you see happening around you. This feeling makes you feel so happy making you like the little king of the world.

I somehow try to recollect my early thoughts, where I saw myself sitting in a large bungalow's veranda with many rooms, in a Parsi House right in the heart of Mumbai city with my yellow tri-cycle parked behind me and my little soldier making fife tunes, my blue teddy bear and a He-Man sword. Slightly hearing to the evening traffic as the double deckers raced with each other cutting through the busy roads of Cuffe Parade. As I smartly wore a Dark brown safari suit with red shoes, the one that made whistling sound as you walked. As I stared above to the clear blue sky, seeing the magnificence of the new world I was being introduced to. 

I saw my mother in her green saree, commonly worn by ladies during early 80's, talking on a device (telephone) which was black in colour. Seeing her speak over this strange instrument, was so enlightening as her lips moved up and down, she sometimes smiled by the movement of her lips in an upward direction, making me learn that smile is done this way, as this mostly happened on seeing me and sometimes her eyebrows went up, making me understand she was either excited or thrilled....such mixed emotions, though hard to understand, this was how I was introduced to the world and the language of being human.

As the evening passed, I saw the yellow warm ball in the sky that was keeping me warm, suddenly it starts to turn its colour to orange, when I saw a man approaching me, with similar expression which I understood immediately as I had watched my mother passing smile during daytime. He was my father, as he constantly spoke PAPA PAPA looking at me....wearing his officer's white Naval uniform with colourful stripes, with which I learnt my colour combinations. 

Suddenly all starts getting even less colourful and that warm light outside the veranda fades to deep dark red sky and Cuffe Parade begins to sleep. I start to cry and then my rumbling stomach begins to enjoy the warm milk that I sip through the bottle and feel contented. 

Slowly my father and mother started singing together turn after turn, sometimes in rumbling husk sound and sometimes in a calm soothing sound, patting my back. Slowly my eyelids begin to drop, like the toy I have in my room and all goes from quiet to still, this I guess was my first sleep experience.