09 My Early Memories
Early memories tend to be patchy and fragmented – my earliest memory is that of the birth of my younger brother as mentioned earlier when I was just 2 years old in 1953. Apart from this memory of my brother, several early memories stand out distinctly in my mind! Our building Krishna Sadan, was just off the main road – Lady Jamshedji Road and over looked a fairly busy street. My mother used to carry and place me on the window ledge and I would then peer out endlessly, fascinated by the various goings on in the street below.
I remember seeing my first funeral – it was a Christian one, and a black hearse was slowly and solemnly moving down the street followed by a retinue of people all wearing black and looking sombre. At this point I asked my mother what it was and she replied that the sleeping man was being taken to the nearby Church and then to Heaven!
I was quite mischievous as a kid and I remember throwing a laundry hanging stick off our balcony! As soon as the stick fell on to the pavement below, I saw a passing servant woman picking it up and marching off with it as if it belonged to her. Another fascinating sight was a Road Roller on the street below when the road was being re-tarred!
Finally, I have a memory of receiving my first injection on the same balcony, from my Uncle, Dr Pai – he asked my mother to distract me with something happening on the street below and while I was engrossed with this, he quickly injected me in the butt!
Many years ago I decided to write a poem which talks about my childhood memories and I called it childhood remembrances. Here is the poem:
childhood remembrances
skeined memories
full of nostalgia and dread
like watching the first funeral procession pass by
from our first floor window
whilst hanging simian like on my mother’s arm
like seeing the first monsoon rain
iron clad grey skies
the flash of light and then the sound
sheets of water pouring
and car wipers doing a desperate dance
on plymouths and morris minors
like going through the first day at school
apprehensive and excited
herded into a room
some crying, some looking blank
whilst I watched with increasing irritation
my father peering anxiously from the side window
like going on my first train journey
jostling crowds and pandemonium on platforms
the sudden shrill whistle of the steam engines
as we passed the parel loco-shed
and I bit suddenly into my father’s face with fright and fear
like receiving my first injection on my rump
whilst the kindly owl-faced doctor diverted my attention
and punctuated his tale with a short sudden stab of pain
like getting my first brother deformed and helpless
and telling my mother in a fit of anger
to send him back to the hospital from where he was obtained
skeined memories
full of nostalgia and dread
now some fifty years ago in bombay.
© ramgopal rao
18 august 2002