Childhood memories

When I think about my childhood, and having two rather strong women at home- my aunt and my mother - I am reminded of a number of incidents – some fun and some a trifle strange and annoying that made no sense at that time – in fact they still don’t but then, as a young kid, who are you to argue. Well this is about my pre- teen life. I enjoyed doing many of the things I mention in this yarn but there were also some that I quite detested. (Post teen was quite a different tale …… will keep that for another time). My uncle was a happy go lucky gentleman, so he hardly figures in any of my stories. Those were the days when comments like – “little boys like you should be seen but not heard’’ were often used. Really? But listen to some more … all very vivid memories. I presume I was short for my age and very skinny so I was stuffed with spoons and spoons of Ferradol apparently because someone had remarked that “I could possibly be having a serious vitamin deficiency” . There was no shortage of quacks. Now Ferradol – if you have ever sampled it, is thick, gooey and not very palatable either but I was made to have it – to put on weight. I never did. Another thing which I was made to have by the mug full was “Complan”. It was supposed to be a “trusted, energy packed, vitamin enriched, complete food” – which made one grow tall. The one I was given was banana flavoured. It didn’t taste anything like bananas to me, if that helps, and I never grew as tall as the boy on the packet. The third was egg flip which was made with raw egg, nutmeg, milk and sugar – I was given this every second day, and this was followed by Seven seas cod-liver oil capsules – all to boost my immune system. Not sure why this did not work on me but what I do know is that I had measles, chicken pox, mumps & pneumonia once each and a sore throat, influenza, a cold, cough and fever quite often. For this reason, I was not permitted to buy the crushed ice topped with coloured syrup that everyone else in our colony loved and relished regularly – presumably if I did, I would get cholera which was the only disease that somehow spared me . I did argue that it did no harm to anyone else and hollered and threw tantrums, but no one bothered to listen. Needless to add, all the above never worked the miracle they were supposed to. People continued to remark as to how small I was and in return I wished them the worst, under my breath of course. I also hated it when friends came over and said, “isn’t Michael very thin and short for his age – why don’t you give him something like Complan or Ferradol”. That was it – then the conversation was only about how stubborn I was and how I troubled my mother when she gave it to me. There was a departmental store in the city and whenever we went there, I was given a coin to put in and take my weight. I remember that the needle hardly moved, and I was under weight for years. Then there was this thing about dressing. For some obscure reason I was never allowed to wear a belt or have a back pocket on my trousers. I now wonder why I didn’t question that odd decision. I vaguely remember something about little boys did not need belts and back pockets looked loaferish. God forbid I put my hands in my side pockets either – that was considered ill mannered! Food was another of my pet peeves – or to put that in the correct perspective – vegetables were. I hated any vegetable that was slimy, so be it brinjals, lady fingers, or drumstick – the day they were cooked were among the worst of my life. Those vegetables coupled with salad - comprising mainly tomatoes and you had one sick looking child – me! Such vegetables almost made me bring up and they refused to go down my throat. The more I tried to be a good little boy and swallow them, the more I almost gagged and felt worse. I once threatened to starve myself to death and was smacked for it. I enjoyed the days we had dinner in the garden though – I don’t know if you guessed this rightly or not. On those days I served myself very well and while everyone was busy talking, I would throw the vegetables to all corners of the garden – at times I would feed our dog ‘’Lovey’’. On a few occasions “Lovey’’ would refuse to eat what I had thrown and then I would get caught but it was well worth the risk. I would then be given the famous lecture about how children were starving all over the world and here I was wasting blah blah blah. I took it in from one ear and out of the other. I guess I was quite incorrigible. House painting was something I did not mind but it was tiring – my aunt loved to paint the house before Christmas. Her ‘piece de resistance’ was the mantel piece which she took immense pride in painting herself. (Some of you younger ones may need to look this up). It was given a marble finish and I was her designated assistant. This took time and patience and by the time we were done it was usually late in the evening having started early in the morning. Then came the cleaning of the hands with turpentine – quite a painful exercise – no pun intended - by the time I was done, all my friends who had been playing outside all day had already gone home and I was left smelling like a rag dipped in oil and paint. To say I would be off mood by then would be putting it mildly. There was more painting to be done as well – there was a man who came in to do this - doors, chairs, the dado, miscellaneous boxes, the good old meat safe and the like. Being the only boy in the family- (there were two female cousins too) helping with the painting became quite a big pre-Christmas chore which lasted for a couple of days. I was also involved in the making of the Christmas cakes – my job being the mincing of the ‘peels’ in the old-fashioned mincer. My hands often ached. I was then responsible for keeping watch when they were put out to dry in the sun and keeping away the birds – especially hungry crows. Needless to add, I was tempted by an item called “petha” which incidentally is still one of my favourites. Every little while a piece or two would be put in my mouth and so I did not complain. I guess I was one of the hungry crows. What is Christmas without a tree? Back then we did not buy tress like we do now – instead we found a well rounded branch, dried it out for a few weeks and then decorated it with snow made of a concoction of soap suds along with plenty of decorative items and lights etc ? Sourcing that branch was a job I enjoyed. We had a house help and so he and I would scour the neighbourhood on many an afternoon till we spotted the right branch. He would then cut it down and we would take it home to dry. At times, smaller branches were tied on with twine or wire to add volume. I would like to believe that I was one of the decorators but more often than not, while others were decorating, I was busy helping myself to the goodies that had been prepared and stored for Christmas. Swinging was something I enjoyed – the only problem being that there were no swings in the vicinity. Hence, I made up for that by swinging on the metal gate. As it was quite large, all that was required was for me to give it one push, jump on and out it went in a wide arc. My mother saw this one fine day and told me not do it if not I would break my head. That did not deter me one bit and so I continued for some months by holding on tighter. Then she dropped a bombshell – If I hung around near the gate, someone (a bogey man) would kidnap and take me away. That somehow struck a chord and I imagined being taken away in a sack and held captive in a dark forest so the swinging on the gate stopped once and for all. I would receive nice gifts on birthdays and festivals but would like to share about two which fascinated me. One was a pair of boxing gloves which I still have. I got them as a gift from my grandfather when I was four years old. They were put away at that time and I finally got hold of them a few years later when I was around nine. I was crazy about boxing and made sure to wear them daily and box anything and anyone who visited – mother, aunt, uncle and young cousins included. Yes, I was often in trouble and was told in no uncertain terms that I would grow up to be a bully if I continued acting wild . Another was an air gun. I was presented with this fantastic gift when I was around eight years old, by my grandfather once again and I was thrilled. The gun was put away in the cupboard and I never saw it again. Apparently when my mother and I were discussing this matter about thirty years later she told me she had given it away at that time itself in case I shot someone in the eye with the pellets! By the way, we had hens, a cock bird and a few ducks for some time. Many neighbours had a few too . The ducks and I seemed to get on quite well. They ate all the left-over food which I fed them as soon as I got back from school in the afternoon and then, quacking away, wallowed in a ditch which I would fill with buckets of water day after day. The cockbird who I named Jonny was a wicked, revengeful, long- legged fellow. I once kicked him by mistake while running. Thereafter whenever he saw me, he charged and tried to nip my ankles or toes if they were exposed. The hens were sweet and every morning, I would feed them before going to school and then collect the eggs which they laid in the hedge in the compound. A friend and neighbour also had a large red cockbird and both these birds would get into fights and peck the hell out of each other (Phillip Pereira are you reading this?) I enjoyed these simple pastimes and spent many a lovely afternoon looking after the birds. Not sure if this last point will resonate with any of you. Often when adults came visiting, my cousins, Annette, Penny and I were put on display. Much before they arrived, we were dressed and ready. Our manners were brushed up and we were told to wish aunty and uncle loudly and clearly – I was told not to mutter under my breath while wishing. We were also warned not to eat up the snacks and politely refuse when offered. Then came the worst part – the entertainment. We either had to sing a song or say a poem for the guests. The more we would remonstrate the angrier my aunt would get and warn us that we would not get dinner if we acted stupid! My cousins usually sang a song called ‘Sisters”- the lyrics were – “Sisters – Sisters – There were never such devoted sisters”! I would laugh and make faces at them from behind while they sang. I would then be called upon to either sing or recite a poem. No amount of last-minute protests would be accepted and so I would go through the motions in disgust. My irritation was not lost on the elders in the family and once the guests left I was scolded and told what a horribly spoilt child I was .Coming to think of it, those on the spot variety programmes have stood me in good stead indeed. As is sit at home locked in due to the present state of affairs, I yearn for those carefree days. I also feel I was a stubborn little boy – not very but quiet! However what I learnt from my mother and aunt are things I will always remember and be thankful for .