It might sound crazy, but I remember being 6 years old. Remember it vividly, like it was yesterday. I even remember the sound of the school bell (the old kind, the real bell).
I remember I was 6, and Dido was 10 when one day she took me to the first floor at the end of the recess, promising me a surprise, and showed me where the sound of the bell came from, showed me the bell-woman ringing the bell. I felt like we solved a mystery that day, and only a trifle bit disappointed at the fact that the bell was not magical, only mechanical.
I did not comprehend the fascination behind toys, or swings, or fancy pencil boxes. Ironically, I have that fascination now, since the last couple of years, probably when I try to hold on to bits of childhood that aren’t mine anymore, and probably never were.
As a child, I remember several delightful moments, but not a single one of them involves dolls or toys; surprisingly, they all involve things that came free of cost….
I remember how I felt all warm inside when I saw dido at the door of my KG-II classroom door, when she'd come to see if I am alright, when she herself was 8.
I remember how precious I felt when dada would bully the kids in the auto rickshaw so I could sit on the ‘seat’, an honour indeed.
I remember how peaceful I felt when I’d lie next to Dabudo and he’d tell me stories, of life and love and trust and choices.
I remember how important I felt when Bu would admire me, talk to me, not baby-talk, which I found condescending, but real-talk, like she cared about what I said, and my opinion counted.
I remember how special I felt when I was sent to pick up Lo and Daus from school, or take Yudi to the park; it made me feel like a Mum- reliable and indispensible.
I remember how fulfilled I felt when I’d keep awake till Ma and Baba returned, and the way they smiled seeing I was up waiting and the way they’d hug me like I was all that mattered.
Growing up was a bit like finding the source of the school bell…. I found that the world is a little less magical, a little more ‘practical’. But I am not complaining at all, because I am so glad that I always could, and still can, feel the magic in the little things that really matter.
I think this is the best part of childhood that you can retain. The faith, that there’s a bit of magic everywhere. The faith that this magic can be found if you’re truly seeking it.
And it might be the bell-woman who’s ringing the bell, but if it’s your most favourite person in the world who’s showing you this reality, the reality doesn’t seem so bad after all, and the magic doesn’t seem too faraway.
