Earlier, only my mom and brother were privy to my histrionics. Years later, A joined the club. As a child, I managed to give my mom a hard time, especially with eating, as my mom recalls. In order to put a morsel or two into my mouth, she had to tell and recount numerous stories: from mythology, freedom struggle, anecdotes from her life and the ones around her family and any famous, er, great person she had read or heard about (Though not explicitly told, my bro and I soon picked up the difference between the famous and the great). I was fed with food and stories. My meals could not start without a 'kahani'. Growing up, I always had a 'kahani ka kitaab' alongside my food plate. My mom would call it the most important 'sabzi' of my meal. While my mom's efforts had nurtured a curious soul and, of course, a reader, the world outside home made me realize my childhood was different. Not privileged, not deprived, but different. The difference caught up with m...
Comments
profound lines my naqaab-posh bua :D
manu
Good thoughts. A bit of mixture of pure hindi and urdu...
Post a Comment