Last Sunday when I was busy munching something, simultaneously staring at television accompanying my brother and mom, our gate suddenly busted open. There entered my cousin along with his dear daughter Ramya, a 10 months old baby, latest addition to our well-built family tree.
My cousin, much like any prideful father started praising her adventures. He said – “Ramya is a nice girl, unlike his 1 year elder prankish playboy brother, Naveen. Her grasping qualities are amazing. If you tell her something, she will catch it like camphor. Enthralling intelligence!”. To prove his statements, he asked Ramya to say “Hello” to us, for which the girl apparently didn’t bother to answer. She dumped her own father in front of us. We didn’t want to see our crushed cousin, so at once we all fondly asked her to say “Hello”. But Ramya is clever, she didn’t budge. Soon our coyness turned to torture. We even submitted our mobiles to tempt her to utter the five letter word “Hello”. No use. Ramya’s attention was not with the aesthetic mobiles designed by Nokia & Sony Ericsson, but on the act of chewing a cheap wafer wrap. When we invariably disturbed her chewing process she lost her temper and stated to cry.
To me, her crying restored a long lost memory. Circles of flashback flashed before my eyes. I was dragged and dropped on to my own childhood memory lane. I was a 5 year old, first grade school going kid then. To abide the school rule, I had to wear casuals on Saturdays. My mom selected for me, a sleeveless pink frock that day. I didn’t like the dress, mainly the concept of sleeveless. Exposing bare hands to my classmates (especially to boys) seemed to be a bad and hurting idea then. “A girl can look glamorous in cinemas, not in classrooms”- It was the principle I lived by, when i was in first grade. Hence, I humbly expressed my objection on wearing that dress. My mom coyly told me that I would look cute on that dress. It was a blatant lie and pained me more. I said I can’t wear. I was told, if not that pink dress then I had to go naked which of course horrified me. Still I was adamant, even tried to dip that evil dress on water. It earned me 4 slaps and 2 pinches on my cheeks. At last I lost the war, went to school wearing, my-pride-humiliating pink sleeveless dress. I wept for the whole day unable to bear the sight of my boy friends eyes on that damned dress.
Ramya’s loud cry vanished the flashback circles, brought me back the present world before my eyes. Later, when Ramya left my home, I discussed this incident to my mom. I reminded her how atrocious and cruel she was once. She coolly replied, how some of my qualities, arrogance and head-strong, showed signs even from the age of five. Am I?
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