My Earliest Memory

At Write Tribe we always keep coming up with amazing ways to involve us bloggers and blend us in. Today on February 1, we, the members of Write Tribe are celebrating the memories of our childhood by narrating the earliest memory that we have and posting it on our respective blogs half an hour apart. So before you move on to my story, do take a peek at Kalpana Solsi’s story at Gemini In The Sky.


Born and raised in a sleepy hill town in the mountains, life was on a turtle speed, always. I always pictured the town as a ‘lost in the woods’ town on a winter morning with the sun shining bright on the freshly snowed rooftops. Even today when I close my eyes and think about that place, this is the image that comes up.

As a kid, I don’t remember being shy at all. When I would walk down the humble little bazaar, most people would wave at me and I would happily wave back. Back then, the parents did not even stop us from meeting, greeting or befriending total strangers. It was in reality, a gesture of accepting the world just as it is and embracing wholeheartedly. And I would like to believe that the town is still like that. Because in my mind it still is. Most things familiar, most people known, most places visited, most everything …mine!


One of those days, just the kind of kid that I was, I befriended a very gentle human soul who used to come every morning to our colony quarters to sweep the ground & verandas and he would also help us get rid of the trash. I don’t remember his name and I don’t remember his face (maybe just vaguely). I was perhaps 5 or 6 when I started chatting with him each morning while going to school. I, along with my brother, would be waiting for our school bus at the bus stop and he would be gathering leaves around there.

StOn Sundays, I used to go to the St. Andrews Church, which was right opposite our school bus stop (actually a stone’s throw away from our residences). There used to be a huge boulder outside the church that we kids would take turns to climb. Believe me it was a tough task, not less than climbing a hill, I reckon. Our afternoons would be spent gathering morel mushrooms and red rhododendron flowers that mama would use to make a savory and a chutney respectively. As a gesture of thanks we loved plucking stealing hydrangea flowers from papa’s office garden (Papas’ office and our colony was joined by a mutual wall).

Parle GOn one of those afternoons, I happily mounted myself on top of the favorite boulder, after gathering the finds of the day, and I noticed a large hoarding of Glucose D biscuits right across the road. Not that I had never had them before, but just then, I kind-of craved for them. I looked around and saw him – the angel who agreed to buy me a pack from papa’s office canteen. Was I delighted?! You bet.

I did not realize it then, but whenever I think about the incident I remember him fondly for he was the one to teach me a very valuable lesson in generosity. He taught me that it does not take a very well read person to set examples; that it is in giving that one receives; that love and compassion is beyond caste, creed, color or religion. That day I learnt a lesson in that I hold very dear to my heart.

That one sunny Sunday afternoon, right outside the church on a boulder I happily sat sharing a pack of Glucose D biscuits with the man who probably spent his one day’s wage (or maybe even more) to make me happy.

My earliest memory!

I pass on the baton to Geeta Nair at Fabric Of Life. Hope you enjoy her earliest memory as well! Have fun.


Kajal signature


46 thoughts on “My Earliest Memory

  1. What an awesome memory that you learned a bit about generosity. What a lovely place you must of grown up in!! My mom loved going mushroom hunting and I remember doing that with her every spring. There could be a mile high mushroom on top of me and I would never see it! LOL

    1. Thanks Kathy…I miss my birth town and I miss each little corner…after I got married I took my husband there for him to participate in my memories about the place and showed him around oh so proudly!

      One place I’d wanna die at as well 🙂

  2. It takes a generous heart to recognize another generous heart and that’s why was the proud recipient of a packet of Glucose biscuits.
    Back in our childhood days , life was simple and simple. Can the present generation look back and say so ?

    1. I guess, they will have their own share of such memories….maybe someday my daughter will write about these kind of things and I hope I appear in her happy memories.

      You’re really generous yourself in recognizing me as generous….Thanks Kalpana 🙂

  3. That was such a beautiful recollection!
    I still love glucose biscuits and Parle-G and chai brings back fond memories of home! 🙂

    The Church and the surroundings are beautiful 🙂

    1. Yes Shilpa… I really feel he was so large hearted. He could have easily wadedy request or would have asked me to ho home which was a leap away but he did not. He shared the moment, remained a friend for years and now as a fond memory and a life long lesson 🙂
      I love Parle G too

  4. Your description of your hometown made me think of our short stay in Wellington – hill stations have such a charm.
    What a lovely memory of a generous man – the ‘simple’ people are always our best teachers, aren’t they?

    1. Ah! I wanted the post to be about the memory and not about me, so I consciously refrained from putting myself up there. The memory of the moment, the memory of the town, the memory of my lesson….all that had to take precedence, that’s why.

      Thanks ❤

  5. Kajal that was such a beautiful description of your home town…’everything mine’ and such a gentle soul you met and imbibed the greatness of generosity! Loved this earliest memory of yours. P.s. just had parle G with my morning tea 🙂

  6. What a warm post Kajal. The character in your story reminded me of my rickshaw wallah. Poor man he would buy us ‘singhadas’ or groundnuts often while returning from school. Looking back I feel so guilty of having let him spend for us given that his earnings were probably meager.

    1. Thanks Geeta! I do have other examples too of the generosity of people who have gone beyond their mean to make me happy. Some people are just meant to be like that…aren’t they and they are the ones that help us restore faith in all humanity. 🙂

  7. That was such a sweet walk down the memory lane Kajal 🙂 You have lost your heart to the valleys and the mountains is evident in so many of your writings 🙂

Thanks for walking into my blog. Please leave your comments in the form of footprints so that I know you visited.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s