A stroll back in time

So after being inactive for a long  time I am back again with a lot to talk about. So today as I was lying down listening to some music when some memories gushed back.

Well, this was in 2010 when after being at home for seven years mum dropped me at one boarding school again. This time my school was an all girls’ school and I had never been to one before.

All the new students were asked to report earlier than the old ones. We were all new there, nervous and sad when our parents left. Many of us cried and few of the bold ones comforted us. I can clearly remember that night when we went to bed after orientation. I could hear sobs from the upper bunk and the one next to mine and the one next to it too. We all lay awake that night with tear stains all over our pillows and we knew even our parents didn’t sleep that night.

I kind of wanted the night to get over soon. I was eager to see what happened next. The next morning all the other students started arriving and we all got busy introducing ourselves, making new friends and just living in that moment.

Life…though not very good was quite good before. We were younger than we are now, there was no fear of being judged, we didn’t have to bother about making first impressions, nobody cared how you dressed or how you looked. We could just live in the moment rather than the past or the furture.

I wish I could undo and redo so many things that happened. I wish I could relive those moments again.


My birdie

I was in the sixth grade and we lived in Mumbai. Our apartment was close to the sea, amidst an ever noisy localty. We lived on the topmost floor of the building and our balcony overlooked the sea, the railway station, salt pans, markets and a few settlements. Dad would always scatter pieces of ‘Parle-G’ buiscuit in the balcony and biIMG-20160825-WA0002rds would come and eat them. There would be parrots, sparrows, crows and mynahs. I would always get excited as I heard the chirps of parrots and would run upstairs to the balcony and watch from the corner. Feeding birds had been a tradition at my house since many years.

One fine afternoon as I came from school and was taking a nap I remember I heard a different sound but I knew it was a parrot. I guessed mum and dad had forgotten to give them food and so they were trying to remind us that they were hungry. I opened the door to the blacony and started breaking biscuits when a small parrot, dark green in color with red marks on his wings, a deep red beak and was very fluffy flew and sat on the slab. He was so hungry that even before I walked inside he rushed towards me and started having the biscuits.

I love all forms of animals and birds and so I was very excited to see this parrot being so fearless. I slowly tried to sit next to it as it ate. Other birds would fly off even if they noticed slight movement inside the house through the net but this brave one sat there and continued eating. Maybe he was very hungry.

He was a baby bird and I felt as if he was someone’s pet and had managed to fly away. I don’t know how but I fell in love with this bird from that day itself. I sat there looking at him, he ate and flew away. I just hoped he would come back.

Next morning, I slept till late, I missed the bird feeding time and I asked mum whether my birdie came, he did come. I was sad I missed him but that evening he came again. This day I tried feeding him biscuits by holding them in front of his beak. He would take it with his feet and hold it and nibble it. But I kept feeling that the biscuits were hard for him.

That eveninng I bouIMG_20160826_222027.jpgght guavas and chillies for him and kept it for him and the other parrots in the morning. He did not touch any of those so I gave him biscuits and he was happy and nibbling again.

Eventually I started crushing the biscuit in my hand and forwarding my hand to my birdie, he would eat from my hand and his beak would feel ticklish every time he pcked at the biscuits. I was the only person he liked ­čśŤ as he would fly away if anyone came close to him. When he would eat he would let me touch his head and run my finger on his feathers. He loved me as much as I loved him.

Everyday he would come in the morning and evening at fixed times and would make a very different sound and I would know he is here. When I would tell my friends and relatives about birdie everyone would ask me to cage him by trick but I would feel hurt when they would say that. I could never trick birdie to trap him. He belonged to the sky, to the nature and to the tree and I could not take any of that away from him.

However, this lasted for a very short time as my family and I had to visit myy aunt for a few days and when we came back birdie was gone. He never came back. Maybe he was too tired of waiting, maybe he thought we left. I hadn’t even named birdie by the time he left and then I could never name him again

I have two pets now. Both of them are very dear to me but birdie was my first pet and he has always been my favorite and will always be.


The day when I realized I was in a boarding school

When I was two and a half years old I remember being sent to a boarding school in Darjeeling, India. I was this ever smiling kid, with just a few teeth and bob cut hair. I held my Mum’s little finger and walked to the dorm. We had just dropped my brother in his dorm and now was my turn. I was small, I didn’t realize mum was leaving me and going. I didn’t know I would go to sleep without her that night and many more nights to come. As mum recalls now, with my cute smile and the two buggsy teeth in front I kept waving “tatta maa” and I held the warden’s hand and kept walking. The school was huge and I was the youngest one. From the first day onwards I was pampered a lot. I have a very good memory and remember most of what happened even when I was a kid. The whole school, its images, memories everything dances in front of my eyes when I think of it. That night I was given a bed alone, but then I wanted to go to mum and I just wouldn’t sleep. I cried and cried until the warden made me sleep with her. From the first day itself I started sleeping next to my warden. She took good care of me as I was everyone’s favorite ever smiling baby. This was the only time when I had not known that when mum leaves I will see her only after months. When she came to meet me in monsoon break I was so so so happy but then this time when she came to drop me back at the hostel I knew she was leaving me again. I just wouldn’t let go of her hand. I cried and cried and thinking of it I still cry. I can remember how tough it was for mum as she tried to control her tears on seeing her baby cry so much. Sometimes I wonder why mum and dad left me there but then I try to think maybe there were reasons she had to. Of course they did get us back ┬áhome when they saw we wanted them and kept us close. Sometimes I don’t feel good about having such a good memory… I remember not only the good things but the bad ones too :(.