The smell and colors of childhood..

With the rains, the temperatures have dropped down. It is not cold, but the morning and evening air has this chill. And instead of the fan, I need something to wrap myself for a cozy sleep. Therefore, I decided to take out the thin bedspread from the drawer. I kept away the book on the side table. A bit of reading before falling asleep. Then wrapped myself in the cozy warmth of the spread. ‘It smells like India. It smells like India.’ I exclaimed excitedly and loudly with a beaming smile. The warmth of the bedspread filling my heart. ‘It smells like Kolkata.’ ‘It smells like my mother’s cupboard.’ I wrapped it around me more tightly.

ZOO, bold red letters on a blue board welcome us to the world of cute colorful animal cartoons printed on the bedspread. Red elephant with a tiny birdee on its back. The ruler of the animal kingdom, the adorable king lion. The spotted giraffes and stripped zebras. One monkey hidden in a tree, two other playing below it. The coconut tree. A red flower. A blue one. Camel giving ride and boy enjoying the zoo. The big blue wet hippo and the baby red one. Three fishy in a pond. Another yellow flower. An almost hidden silly turtle. The smiling sun. And a colorful snake close by. A girl in red frock holding hands with her brother. A happy colorful adorable zoo.

The colorful zoo

I had eyes on this bedspread from when I was a child. My mother used to spread it only on some special occasions or when we had close friends over at our home. The colorful bedspread thus got associated with many special memories. And all along I dreamed, ‘when I will be big, I will have it for myself’. Finally, last April when I visited India, I fulfilled my ‘dream’. I brought back with me this colorful happy memory of childhood. It was long waiting in my mother’s cupboard with other bed linens. It had the smell of the cupboard. The smell that was always in the air whenever my mother took out a fresh bedspread. A smell of detergent, and old fabrics, and new ones, the cupboard, all together. A smell that brought back cherished childhood memories.

We were all playing around the whole day, as parents were busy enjoying themselves. The two family friends were at home and we were having one of our ‘crazy’ get-togethers. Maybe we were playing ‘catch me’ inside the house. Suddenly one jumped on the bed. The others automatically followed. We ran up from one side escaping the ‘catcher’, and ran down the other. Our little footprints were imprinted on the bedspread. As if, some children actually ran through the display of cute and interesting animals in a colorful zoo. Little dusty black hurried prints capturing a moment of our playful rush.

There is this picture in my mind. Brother and me on our tummy on the bed, and completely engrossed in the animal pictures on the spread. Every time we used to ‘discover’ something new. The monkey that is hiding in the tree, the little yellow flower we had not noticed before, the boy in blue on the back of the camel. Or we would simply look at the animals around us and admire them. I loved the hippo in blue sometimes, while most other times the red elephant was my favorite. And we counted the number of giraffes printed on the bedspread. There is this picture of a toy train carrying the dolphins around! I often imagined myself in the same train getting a ride through the zoo. Other times bhai and me wished to be the little brother and sister holding hands and looking around in wonder.

The other day Blaž said, ‘It has a lion too’. ‘Of course’ I replied with an enthusiastic smile. And I looked lovingly at the cute ‘king lion’, friendly and yellow. Then I spotted a blue bird on the back of the elephant, almost hiding. I noticed that there is a pair of blue and yellow flower, and I used to think there is only the red and blue pair!

I love this bedspread. It had always been my most favorite. It still is. This bedspread brings back to me the little girl with two ponytails fascinated by the world of colorful cartoonish animals. And with the happy surprise it brought along the smell of India, the smell of home.. The colors and fantasy of the little girl and the smell of childhood..

Dadu..

Dadu.. I was then just a couple of days old and had come home for the first time from the hospital. You eagerly asked dida (grandma) to dress me up. You wished to take me out in the neighborhood and show me off proudly. In the end, of course you were not allowed to take the newborn out then yet. You had to wait another 2-3 months for the opportunity. Dida dressed me up in a new dress that she had stitched. A little dot of ‘kajal’ adorned my forehead. You gathered me in your arms with lot of care and took me out. Beaming with a proud happy smile you showed me to all your neighbors. Your brand new granddaughter. Your Tup.

After the lunch, I used to lie by your side playing and babbling. I was then old enough to slowly start eating normal food. Dida prepared the feeding bottle with fresh fruit juice. Your task was to make me drink the juice. However, of course I had no intention to do so. I used to try pushing the bottle out of my mouth. And you coaxed me to make the ‘choooo’ sound. The sound as air passes through the nipple of the empty bottle. With all eagerness, I continued sucking the juice to achieve the sound. ‘Choooo.’ I smiled with an enthusiastic happiness showing my empty gums. You smiled looking at me. A little everyday game. A little smiling moment of grandpa-granddaughter.

My babbles had not yet turned into words then. Every afternoon you used take me out in the garden. You introduced me to the nature around us. And I looked around. My eyes full of awe and wonder. ‘That is a crow.’ ‘Look there, there is a house-sparrow.’ ‘This big tree is called coconut tree.’ You showed me. My eager eyes followed your words. I was able to recognize birds even before I knew to speak a word. ‘Where is the crow?’ Your granddaughter’s keen eyes looked around in search and stopped as she spotted one. My gibberish sounds told that I found a crow.

The whole evening I used to crawl behind you as you walked around in the house. My knees and palms black with dirt, my face shinning with smile. And together we created stories. I was too young to remember these moments. Dida told me all in her stories. I have requested her to retell them hundreds of times. I still do. I can feel your loving touch through her words. I can feel you in these stories.

And then I do remember other moments. I remember how every evening you used to take me to the VIP road. We would wait for ma as she returned from work. In the meantime, the glorious red and yellow of the ‘krishnachura’ and ‘radhachura’ flowers had caught my attention. I wanted those flowers and my dadu fulfilled my wishes. I returned home, both hands full of flowers. My face radiant, reflecting their bright colors. And as spring faded away and the flowers stopped blooming, I wished to have the leaves. Compound leaves. I still love those leaves. One day I tore those little leaflets and tried to fill the channel of the sliding door. I can close my eyes now and vividly ‘see’ my two-year-old self, busy with the leaflets. I can ‘see’ it even with eyes open; the moment is so vivid in my memory.

Every day after lunch, you had to get me one guava fresh from the tree. Your Tup’s wish. You gave me my first Cadbury ‘Fruits and Nuts’. I still remember every details of that moment. My excitement and your satisfied smile. I remember you giving me ‘cream cracker’ biscuits. Those are still one of my favorites. After finishing my own fish head, I wished to get the eyes and brain from the one in your plate. I wished to have a bit of the fried ‘neem’ leaves from your plate. To make me take the bitter medicines when I was ill, you had to bribe me with my favorite bitter leaves from your plate! As I returned home after weeks in hospital, you held on to me as a lost treasure regained.

I used to lie down by you, trying to imitate you reading the newspaper. My legs crossed. Often times holding the newspaper turned upside down, I pretended reading the newspaper intently like you. When you turned a page, I turned too. I felt so grown up and proud of me, being able to ‘read’ like my dadu. The books that surrounded you made me interested, and I was fascinated by this world. I am still absorbed in this world of books, often times reading in the same posture as you used to.

I had just started going to school. It was summer vacation. I came to your place and proudly declared that I had learnt singing. Immediately, you kept aside the newspaper in your hand, and pulled me closer. ‘Won’t you sing it for me?’ Showing off my newly acquired talent, I proudly sang ‘Jana Gana Mana’, the national anthem! You were so proud and impressed with me. I always had this habit of telling you and showing you all the new things, everything, happening in my life. I still have the yearning to do so…

I lost you when I was only four years old. I did not understand then what was happening, what is death. The next day I asked dida where you were. She solemnly replied that you went somewhere very far and would never return. I was surprised but somehow accepted it. Without any further question.That day as rain poured down heavily reflecting my loss, I did not shed a tear. I did not even understand the loss. I just remember you lying peacefully in eternal sleep, the house full of people, and the heavy rain. But when I think now, I am almost glad I did not cry. You would have never liked your Tup’s eyes full of tears. I am glad I never really said goodbye, because you never really went away from me.

A child hardly remembers anything from when she is four or younger. And yet I have all these floating images and memories of you fresh in my mind. The moments are so alive that sometimes I feel I can almost touch them. Your love and the memories we created in those short four years are so precious to me. You are so precious. I look at your picture on my writing desk, I feel you close to me. Nevertheless, I still miss you. Because I know back in India, I will just have the big framed picture of yours when I go to your house, as it has been all these years. And here I stand holding your picture, still longing to tell you everything happening in my life. And I do tell. I tell you all about my smiles and tears, all success and failures. Every decision I take, every important moment of my years. Tup still wants to make her dadu proud and share secrets with him... 

And somehow I think and believe that my silent stories reach you. I can feel you with me, looking down at me with a smile. Even though I cannot see you, you are there. Aren’t you dadu? I know for sure that you are there. It is only that that I cannot reach you..

Dadu.. My dearest grandpa..