Life comes in full circle
Growing up in Silchar amongst the whole gang of relatives from both side of parents, one of my biggest privilege was solid dose of family gatherings. Close-knit family get-togethers and the functions used be a regular affair. For some of those where I could not tag along, my greatest pleasure used to be watching my parents get ready.
Right from choosing the perfect sari and jewellery to go with it, I used to witness the whole of it. While Ma would be struggling to run a comb through her mass of waist length hair, my dad would be ready in no time and waiting patiently for her. I’d be strutting around in Ma’s vertiginous stilettos. She’d catch my eyes in the mirror and give a smile back. And then I’d regretfully give back her heels and watch her slip her beautiful feet into them, her slender neck barely able to hold up that massive bun. Spritz of perfume and they’d kiss me and leave in a cloud of perfume and fantasy.
Fast forward 20 years and I find that while I get ready to dress, Shreya is either prancing around in my heels or lying in the bed looking at me like I’m the most beautiful woman on earth. Just as I looked at Ma in her neatly done hair and graceful sari.
And probably this is one of the many good things to have kids for – for those few moments when we’re perfect in someone’s eyes. And this is what childhood memories are made up of – perfume, music, magic and nip of wonderful stories.
Right from choosing the perfect sari and jewellery to go with it, I used to witness the whole of it. While Ma would be struggling to run a comb through her mass of waist length hair, my dad would be ready in no time and waiting patiently for her. I’d be strutting around in Ma’s vertiginous stilettos. She’d catch my eyes in the mirror and give a smile back. And then I’d regretfully give back her heels and watch her slip her beautiful feet into them, her slender neck barely able to hold up that massive bun. Spritz of perfume and they’d kiss me and leave in a cloud of perfume and fantasy.
Fast forward 20 years and I find that while I get ready to dress, Shreya is either prancing around in my heels or lying in the bed looking at me like I’m the most beautiful woman on earth. Just as I looked at Ma in her neatly done hair and graceful sari.
And probably this is one of the many good things to have kids for – for those few moments when we’re perfect in someone’s eyes. And this is what childhood memories are made up of – perfume, music, magic and nip of wonderful stories.
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