I remember the little ten year old who used to eat Ovaltine powder out of the tin when Mama was sleeping in the afternoon, and laughing out loud when Mama opened the tin after a few days horrified to find the Ovaltine stuck together from moisture getting in. Hey! Ovaltine was hard to come by in those days - and no one was allowed extra portions with salivated tablespoons...!
I remember the first Barbie I ever owned. My aunt got it from London and it was the most beautiful doll in the world. I showed it off a gazillion times, beaming with owner's-pride as my friends looked at it with envy. I also haven't forgotten the torture of seeing it being flung into the ceiling fan by my naughty elder brother - and the doll coming down in two pieces!
I remember fighting over a little red post box my father had brought - that we both wanted to own - and my brother got it - it was the most beautiful box I ever saw.
I remember baking my first cake. My father got me a box of Hundreds & Thousands. It was the most deformed looking cake in the world, when I think about it now. But back then, it was the most perfect cake in the world...*sigh* Didn't taste too bad either, by the way.
I remember my younger brother helping me make my MSN account - and patiently explaining to me how it works. He was such a little brat as a kid, always Mama's baby when we were all little - I would play the role of the bossy older sister, and enjoy it so much. Simply because it annoyed him!
I remember my first trip to the beauty salon with my Mama (for the first time to get something more than just a school specificated haircut), and wearing make-up for the first time to a family wedding! I remember getting my first pair of high-heels. They were shiny hot pink! (I nearly tripped... they were also a daring three inches!)
I remember driving a car for the very first time, and my Dad showing me how to use the clutch on the battered old car he'd borrowed from work to teach me on - just incase I hit something! Dad - always so practical.
I remember falling in love... And then learning other things that come with it... I remember learning to let go, and letting go...
I remember writing my first article and getting my first pay-check. That was a great feeling of having achieved something. And getting my first real job - as a teacher.
I remember seeing my picture in the paper for the first time - WOW - when I scored the highest in my exams. I remember my parents beaming with pride that day. They were proud of me.
I remember stepping into motherhood. The most beautiful of my memories - I remember how it felt to bring life in to the world. I have no words to describe the feeling of complete and utter bliss. I remember learning a new kind of love with this title - Mother. I remember teaching my children to paint. Letting them make a mess as I made hand-prints for me to keep. And giving them their first lychees to taste... their little noses crinkling, wondering how the jelly-like, white-looking thing will taste on their tongues. I remember the first time I took them to see the snow... and we attempted to make a snowman. I remember teaching them how to walk, run, speak, sing, and go to school. I remember baking my daughter's first batch of brownies with her. I remember the first time my son fell, and how brave he was. They are my masterpieces, like symphonies - my 1st and my 2nd.
I remember the first diamond ring I ever owned. It is the most beautiful ring in the world. And though I don't wear it anymore, it is a special thing, it makes me smile to myself when I see it in my jewellery box.
I remember a recent summer abroad, when I met my parents as a mature adult. And fell in love with them all over again. We made many new memories that year.
I remember laughing about 'Pajara da tax' and 'Kitchen ki batti off?' and 'Yeh kya hai?!' and the award-winning 'Hum khatay thay pehlay...' inside jokes we own.
There have been good times, and there have been great times... I remember these times with a full-colour picture. They heal me over and over again from all the bad stuff that I have been through.
Whenever I was hurting, I think, little bits of me dropped away. These memories brought new bits, that were gradually plastered over the spaces left empty, and I kept growing into who I am.
I make an effort to always remember the good times and focus on forgetting all the bad times. It's a constant process. I feel like a sculpture, and the sculptor who made it - simultaneously. I chisle away at myself, letting what I don't want, or can't have, go. Keeping what I love, and own it. Crafting and molding and shaping - making me who I am eventually: The Daughter, the Sister, the Mother, the Woman - all glorious, all beautiful.
To my parents, my brothers, and my children - I love you from within. I'm not great at showing it sometimes. But I think of you everyday...
'In the morning I wake up, before I put on my make-up... I say a little prayer for you...!'
-JB
