“Pluckh!”
She fell into the cold water as I stood staring at her. The sound alerted amma
who was enjoying a swim. Suddenly before I realized what was happening she was
hauled out of the water safe and secure. ‘She’ here was and still is my best
friend - my younger sis. Well, that fall in the pond was our first tryst with
beauty consciousness. She was a babe of a little over two and me a child of
four.
We
were on a short vacation to my mother’s ancestral home. The pond in question
was one attached to the house where the ladies took a dip and enjoyed a swim.
The two of us fascinated by the sight of a pond and people swimming in it made
it a point to accompany amma for the swim. The obedient we, never dared
disobey amma’s orders. But that day it so happened that lil’ sis decided to roll in the lap of mother earth
and in the process smeared herself with mud. The elder sister in me decided she
needed a scrubbing and a dip and off started the bathing process. Soap applied
I led her down the steps into the water. But the slippery stone decided to play
spoil sport and there she went “Pluckh!” into the water. Well this was not the
last of our adventures. In fact it was the first in a series to come in the
following years.
On
another occasion we decided to join amma at the pond near my paternal house.
Sis was just three and I was five. Just as we were sneaking out through a side
gate our cousin a boy of sis’s age insisted on joining us. So off went the
three of us on our mission “Pond Visit”. The rain the previous night had left
puddles of mud and water in the narrow lane at the side of the house. Hardly
had we covered 100 m when suddenly our cousin got stuck in the mud. Our efforts
to rescue him having failed we left him there all alone after assuring him we’d
call amma and get him out of the mess. But once at the pond we coolly forgot
about him and sat watching mom washing the clothes. We told her that we had
informed Dad. So happy were we watching the fish playing in the waters and
children swimming, that we did not notice Dad arrive with a stick. It was only
then that mom realized that we had told her a lie. We ran all the way home
avoiding coming into contact with the stick. Later we came to know that our
aunt alerted by our cousin’s cry had sent Dad on our trail.
Our
tryst with beauty and danger did not end there. One cold winter morning Mom sat
on the charpoy outside with the neighbouring ladies stitching a sweater
for Dad, while the two of us played indoors. Little sis still a baby of three
attracted by a picture of a girl with rosy cheeks on a magazine cover,
expressed a desire. She too wanted rosy cheeks.
The genius I decided to grant her wish. When mother came she was aghast.
Little sis was proudly showing off her ‘rosy cheeks.’ I too was mighty pleased and
proudly revealed the secret of the transformation. I had bitten her cheeks till
they were rosy red. Luckily mom let me off with just a small session on the
dangers of my action. That was the last time sis ever expressed a desire for
rosy cheeks and the last time I ever bit her or anybody for that matter. My incisors
learnt to vent their love only and only on food. They vowed never to dig into
human flesh any more.
Ahh!
As years fled by we grew and with it our beauty consciousness and pranks. One
hot summer day in the afternoon Mom sent us off to take a short siesta. I think
I was in the second and lil’ sis was in the kinder garden. We had for company
our neighbour’s daughter who was three years my senior. Well, we decided siesta
could wait but not our desire for a catwalk session. So off we went applying a
liberal dose of talcum powder on our face, neck and hands to look shining
white, a bottle of red liquid bindi served as lipstick and the kajal as
mascara. Hair tied up with ribbons, wearing mom’s heels we started our ramp
walk only to find ourselves falling head over heels and inviting mom’s wrath.
In the process one of us also shed some blood. That I believe was our first and
last attempt at catwalk.
As
years passed by and we grew in age our pranks too took other shapes. We started
becoming more sober, more mature and more responsible. By the time we reached our teens we had
outgrown the kind of pranks we played as kids. But the days we spent as kids, the pranks we
played, the fun we had still remain with us and once in a while we relive them,
share them with our kids and laugh at ourselves. Those years will never come
back but those memories are there forever.
********************
Amma- mother
Kajal – a black cream of sort
applied in the lower eyelid
Bindi – a sign worn on the forehead
usually round in shape.
********************
This post is written for the Dove contest on Indiblogger
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