Once upon a time..

RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE

We are often told to keep the child in us alive. I have tried. It does make life lighter. We are also told reading habit can enrich our minds. I have spent the best part of my formative years curled up with books of all genres. It has lent its wings to my imagination. I can vouch for that. However, these boons of life have a
flipside too!

There are certain things which seemed so perfect once upon a time. I’d have happily given a limb or two to realise those dreams. Yet when those very fantasies gain physicality today, they render themselves cumbersome.

For instance, the snow! The whiteness of it and its freezing touch which I read so often about in books fascinated me to no end. I longed to live in an igloo, under steely grey skies, wearing parkas and making my own fishing hole.

My fascination for white Christmases, snowstorms and hail seemed to unfold ceaselessly till I actually experienced it. The cold, wet feeling that dampened my clothes, bones and spirits led me to examine my weird old wish I felt when I was living in the truly salubrious weather of Namma Bengaluru decades ago.

As a child, I would invariably contract a crick in my neck craning at the occasional aeroplane flying in the skies. I would yearn to fly high among the clouds and help myself to a fistful of the toffees that were supposed to be offered by the airhostesses. Today, when I wait indefinitely at airports and get cramped in the aircraft that does not offer anything to soothe the sweet tooth, I crave for the magic carpet!

The endless picnics, delightful tuck boxes and midnight feasts described by Enid Blyton in her various series of books left me drooling. A comic book where Donald duck and his three nephews lazed around on sunbeds sipping lemonade from a lake which was filled to the brim was my ultimate food fantasy. I dreamt relentlessly about having orgies of junk food around the designer lake! I knew little about calorie intake, its effects on health and fitness.

One of the large castles, palaces, ranches, country houses, cottages and bungalows which peopled the protagonists of many stories would metamorphose into my dream home for a while till I took fancy to a new one. Those were the days when I had no inkling about the real estate market, cost of interior decoration or the multidimensional aspects of housekeeping.

At the end of every fairytale which began with once upon a time and ended with lived-happily-ever-after, I’d wonder why all them ended the same way. Adult life changed all that and more. When life unfolded its vagaries which were always not pleasant, I long to be a child again and seek solace in the hope of a happy ending!