I often thought about writing something regarding rain. How important is rain, to me? I spent my childhood in a desert infested country;
Like on one particular rainy day, I remember traveling in our blue Honda Civic car. Mom and dad went to shop, and I was taken along. That was obvious, as there were not another soul in our house who could take care of me while the parents were away. The time was around 7 PM, and it was heavily raining.
Anyways, our car stalled in a traffic red signal. When the signal turned green, dad started the car. Just beside our car, another car was standing. A typically dressed turban clad Arab guy was driving that car. Suddenly, there was lightning. This is probably my earliest memory of experiencing a lightning. I saw the whole car getting white, and in that extra light, I could see the frightened look of that Arabian person. He stopped the car with a loud screeching noise. I wasn’t too startled at the sound of lighting. Now when I’m looking back to this very old memory, I guess the lack of fear in me was caused due to two reasons. Firstly, I come from a country of rainfall, and rain and anything related to it is programmed in my genes as “non-harmful”, beautiful elements. Secondly, perhaps I was taught about rainfall and storms some other time by my parents. Or at least I had some pre-conceptions about the phenomenon. I clearly remember fearing neither the rain nor the lightning.
I’d wait to see the rainy days. I still don’t know why this happened. Maybe the genes had to do something with it?
On such a rainy evening, my sister was born.
When my mom had to be transferred to the hospital, dad had to leave me with another Bangladeshi family. As I have already mentioned, leaving me alone at home was out of question. So, I was dropped off to the home of Kamal Uncle. For me, it was a bittersweet situation. I was somewhat friendly with the daughter of Kamal uncle, but she was older than me and had different priorities. Back then I was really fond of playing with toy cars, but I was not allowed to bring more than 3 cars. My mom bought me these cars just before leaving for the hospital. All three were jeep cars. But one can only play a while with only three cars.
Mou used to go to school early in the morning, and return really late—almost in the evening. I was excused from going to school. I was a student of class 1 then. That was year 1987. The teacher game me a lot of home work, but I didn’t like doing them at all. I think I didn’t finish all of the homework whilst staying in that place.
My tenure in their house was mostly a bitter experience. Throughout the day, I’d remain extremely bored. Kamal uncle was a serious person, and I didn’t like her wife at all. The lady would talk too much, and she’d always try to make some stupid jokes, which I seldom found funny. The TV preference was weird, too. Kamal uncle used to watch NEWS and anything and everything relatively boring. To make things worse, I wasn’t allowed to turn on the TV whenever I wanted to, as “Uncle would get angry if I touch the remote”. So I was missing all the cool cartoon shows that I really wanted to see. Also, my favorite channel, CTN (Children’s Television Network) was not available there. However, I vaguely remember watching a new series called “Thundersub” in a channel.
On one particular day, I wasn’t allowed to have dinner till late in the evening. Uncle was apparently bringing chicken, which the aunt would apparently cook for me. Also apparently, “I will not touch rice if it is not accompanied by Chicken” (murgi na thakle to chele bhaat ey haat ee dibe na)—this was one statement made by the woman, for which I’ll never forgive her.
That was a moment of revelation for me. I realized that I wasn’t really wanted or welcomed in that house; at least not by this lady. She took me in just because she had to. Although, the statement above might seem deceiving; anyone can assume that she was actually caring for me, and waiting for the chicken to arrive. But actually she was highly annoyed, and her vocal tone showed it.
Haha…or maybe this is just a childhood grudge that I’ve just brought up from my memories? I don’t think I will get an answer to this question in this lifetime. Sadly, we have no sort of communication with this family since we returned to
So, I had to wait till about 10 or 11 PM to get dinner. I was a 7 year old kid, and the hunger was unbearable for me. I tried taking things in to my hand, and I was caught while spreading cheese on a piece of bread. I was just going to take one piece of bread. But Alas! The foul lady appeared from nowhere and scolded me. “Have patience! Uncle is coming with the chicken”. I was like duhhh.
The funniest bit is, Mou was fed and sent to bed a long time ago, because she had “Classes In The Morning”. That incident angered me even more. She was given whatever food was available (which was not that bad), but I wasn’t given anything then.
No matter how bad things were, I heard the best news of my small life during that stay. One evening, I was taking a bath. There was this somewhat huge bowl in the bathroom, on which I was sitting and playing with water. The bowl was filled with water, and I was also occasionally turning on and off the shower. If anyone’s reading this, don’t laugh! You have to remember; I was a 7 year old kid only. The door was ajar, and suddenly I heard the voice of Kamal Uncle. He was saying “Tonmoy, tomar ekta bon hoyeche”. This means, a baby sister is born! I was so happy! I was always hoping for a sister from the very beginning. I was not told anything silly by my parents about this birth; like “Your mom is sick” and stuff. I knew that I’d be having a bhai or a bon, and I was hoping for a bon. I was happy, and when I was sure that all other members of the household are quite far away, I came out of the bowl and did a few jumps of joy. I came out of the shower, and that’s the last memory I have about my staying in their house.
I was moved to another house for the rest of the days. These days were happier, and I had a better time staying there. I even lost a tooth during that period. But that’s a different story.
Wasn’t this going to be my earliest memories of seeing rainfall? Well, I just told that story. Hope you liked it.
2 comments:
it's really sad to see how some people could be so mean! and often they neglect children's psychology, emotions. as a child i also had so many bitter memories, people commenting bad about people, people dissing other people and how people were being meanie, bitchy at their back... these things often hurt me, surprised me.
pardon me? what was this post all about? something to do with memories of the rainy days or about your childhood or was it about the birth of you sister? :D
Little bit of this, little bit of that...don't you think only rain description would have been too boring to read? :)
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