/* Style Definitions */
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
font-family:”Times New Roman”;
Childhood, is it really a magical period of life or do we romanticise
it? It is known that our rain blocks out
the unpleasant memories and only retains the pleasant ones. So it is no wonder
that we all remember our past with great affection, as only the pleasant memories
have remained, and the disappointments and pain is buried so deep that we cant,
or don’t want to get at it.
My childhood was very comfortable, though lonely. When I was
very little, we lived in a large house. The downstairs was large and rambling,
with a huge veranda, a big courtyard and the servants quarters. My grand father
had a huge library. He was a barrister. Having read law at Cambridge. He had a huge library. I remember, sitting in the huge swivel,
leather chair and spinning myself, as I looked at the glass shelves.
Each one of them stuffed with books, in Arabic, Persian,
Urdu and English, they covered every subject, from philosophy to the Arts, and
the whole world was there. To my UN educated and young mind it felt as if, the
whole world was there.
I remember my parents being very busy with their own lives,
and not having any time for me. I saw them once or twice a week. Other wise I
lived with my step grand mother and her to daughters. I had them for company
and many servants to wait on me; I didn’t miss my parents a great deal. It
actually never occurred to me that parents are meant to love and cherish their
children. It is true that hat you don’t know you don’t miss!
My parents lived upstairs, and half way down the stairs was
my bedroom. The door of my room opened to the middle of the stairway. It as
made of white stone, and I remember, that it glistened in the sun and in the
The servants often told the story of a pair of Cobras, who
came out on the night of the full moon, and sat there side y side, their hoods
out; swaying from side to side, but they never harmed anyone…
Though I was forbidden to come out from my room, once I was
tucked in, I remember one night, very quietly opening the door a tiny it and
peeping out, and seeing the Cobras. With their hoods spread, sitting side by side.
The markings visible on their head. Their grey lack skin glistening in the
A sight I have never forgotten.
So there you have it, I only remember vividly such sites. I don’t
recall that my parents were out socialising, when they should have been caring
So tell me what was your childhood like and hat do you