Childhood...

I read this somewhere...

Childhood is a kingdom, where nobody dies...

This is the most beautiful one line definition of Childhood I have ever come across yet.

I have my own definition also. But I guess, I can't contain it in one line. For me my childhood has never actually ceased. It still lives inside me, i.e., the child in me. :) And for some reason, when somebody tells me, "SHRUTI!!! GROW UP!!" I feel proud of myself.

During my day dreaming sequences, I mostly reach the lane and the park in front of my house in Delhi, where I've spent most of my childhood. The games, the frolic and the exuberance of childhood. I miss all that and lot more. I miss the times that were just careless and irresponsible. Wandering in the scorching heat of Delhi summer, with no care in the world of what we would become in future. Playing self made games, with self defined rules. Fighting for the reasons that we won't remember. I miss the times, when we were not distinguished on the basis of our sexes in the games that we played. Indoor games, Outdoor games. I've had my share of adventures. I would be sharing one of them here, this memory has always remained very vivid.

It was one of the very hot days in summer and as usual we, being the naughtiest lots in our area, were upto some mischief. We (a group of 5 miscreants), had gathered at the rooftop of one of our friends' house and decided that we should serve the society and would organize a bhandara (free food distribution) for some poor kids. We arranged 4 bricks in the form of a makeshift stove (chullah in hindi), put some garbage like old newpapers and dried leaves and sticks (as there was no coal available) to burn a fire strong enough to cook some potatoes. By the time we got the "fir" burning bright enough, it was past our lunch time (and ofcourse our guests had fled for the fear of getting burnt in this process). Our moms were looking for us. When my mom found me she had that special look on her face that I used to be terrified of at that time. As I was the eldest of the lot, I was automatically expected to be more responsible and keep an eye on the young ones. But, since this idea was the creation of my own kind (and twisted) mind ;), I was also the one who recieved the maximum punishment. My mom gave me her famous pinch, that made my head swirl for 5 seconds. Hehe... But the food did not go wasted. As we were very hungry by the time we were found, my mom cooked the potatoes and served it with some puri. And I ate with content, mainly because I was eating from my mom's hand (as I was still hurt from the pinch ;)), also because at least some hungry stomachs were fed and also because nobody was hurt. Ofcourse the rooftop, where we had gathered, was swirming with newspapers, leaves and their burnt remains. :P

I learnt a lot that day. One, that I was not supposed to put my friends' lives in danger. Two, my mom always finds my whereabouts, no matter where I hid. Three, cooking is not a child's play. And finally Four, that it takes time to understand the real meaning of charity. And I have understood now, after all these years, and the day when I can muster up enough courage, I shall definitely grow out of the small charities of giving used clothes, to something bigger, something better, like education. And by the way things are moving, I don't think I would have to wait for a long time. :)