Three random memories






1

I have just turned six and attained the minimum
age limit for the membership of the neighbourhood public library. I know this
because the librarian had said so last time. I proudly walk into the library, holding
a photo of my birthday celebration as the proof of my age. The librarian
scrutinizes the photo carefully. I wait patiently. After a while he says, yes, I
am eligible for the membership.




He asks me my name and address and issues me a
membership card – B111. He says till the time I am sixteen, my membership is
free.




Gloating, I go to the children’s section. Wow. Such
a huge room! So many racks, so many books! I can hardly contain my glee. But I am
confused. Which one should I read first?




The librarian is struck with a brilliant idea.  He says why don’t I read books serially from
the catalogue? He dives amidst the racks and emerges with a book and a
triumphant smile.




I am issued my first ever library book; containing
two stories – “Alibaba Aar Chollish Chor” (Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves) and “Aladdin-er
Aschorjo Prodeep” (Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp) from the Arabian Nights.

Thus starts my treasured relationship with my
neighbourhood library and the librarian - whom I would grow to love deeply in the
time to come.




2




I am studying in standard IX. The final exam is over.
One afternoon, I am alone at home. Grandma is visiting her sister with my
brother and mom and dad aren’t yet back from office. I am reading a Harry
Potter. It is so interesting.




Suddenly my mom appears outside of my window, in
the backyard of our house. She yells at me, “What are you doing? I am ringing
the doorbell for so long!”




Huh!! I didn’t hear!




My mom is upset. She thinks she made a mistake to
introduce me to books. She thinks I will ruin my life with this addiction of
mine. She says, it would be good if I had as much dedication toward my studies
as well.

I know I have gone too far. I make an innocent
face and give her a tight hug. She grumbles for some time and then hugs me
back.




3




I have come to a wedding along with my cousins. Our
favourite uncle is getting married. So we have taken the responsibility on our
shoulders to oversee everything. We are very busy. We are alternating between checking
the makeshift kitchen, tasting each recipe as they are being prepared and the
serving area that is being decorated.




A delivery truck has arrived. It is full of colourful
fabrics. We climb onto the truck unnoticed. It is so fun up here. We place
ourselves cosily inside the folds of fabrics waiting to be unloaded. But suddenly
the truck starts to move. We panic. We get up and shout. We try to catch the
attention of the driver. But he keeps driving. We reach the decorator’s shop.




He is surprised to see us. And we are crying. What
will happen if our parents find out? Will they then send us home from the
wedding?




The decorator assures he will take us back. But we
are scared because he looks like a kidnapper. He books us a rickshaw. When we
reach back, it is a chaos there. Five children are reportedly missing. We slowly
walk into the scene.




Initially they are anxious but as we tell our
story, they become furious. They lock us inside a room. But that doesn’t dampen
our spirit because we are still at the wedding and together. We start playing Antakshari.  




Love,



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Published on April 15, 2013 16:40
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