The arrival of summer was always a cause for celebration in everybody’s life. It was a time when school was out, and endless possibilities awaited. Every year, before school ends the children would be brimming with excitement, for it meant embarking on grand adventures and creating cherished memories. The bickering would be endless, about catching up with their cousins at grandparents’ house munching on the best savories, the retreat trip to that hill station, the summer camp at the mountains, and much more. And I would sit there calmly very well knowing how I would spend my summer days locked around the four walls of my room with my sister all thanks to my workaholic parents who cared and prioritized their first child – job and job only.

Well as I came back to my home thinking of how to push away the vacation days what came as solace to me was a bunch of storybooks, sketchbooks, color pens, and craft items.

This is the journey of my childhood and the summers I passed through some happily, some in boredom, some in pain, and some loving myself.

The summer sunlight starts hitting deep into my windows, combined with the harsh whistles of the pressure cooker in the kitchen nearby and the routine chaos of the working household was enough alarm for me to wake up from my whimsical dreams.

The morning moodiness won’t leave me for a while that my family knew very well that nobody dared to make conversation with me for a bit. After the routine activities, I would slowly go to the kitchen to see if my favorite delicacies are made only to see the string hoppers and vegetable curry that I never approved of even now. Devastated thinking my day is done my next aim is only my neighborhood kitchen. For someone being very familiar with the neighbors their home just seemed like walking to another room for me. So as not to waste much time I would run fast to their dining room and stand there smirking at the piping hot string hoppers at their pretty casserole while everyone was devouring them blissfully. Within no time I would rush to the kitchen and get hold of a plate and come and eat the breakfast that I disrespectfully said no to at my very own home. I hope you got a little glimpse of me and my moods.

Soon after the breakfast session and sending off our parents after me and my sister convinces them the amount of work, we would do by the time they come back we rush to switch on the big TV box and get hold of the remote. Apparently, the kind of stuff 6-year-olds and 11-year-olds wanted to watch never were the same although our fights every day remained pretty much the same.

After being tired after fighting I’ll move into my zone in my dreamland filled with storybooks, art, and creativity. It was a space with unlimited possibilities and dreams, it often felt unreal, I felt the most calm and happy there.

And today, as I look back, the architect in me is dearly thankful to her parents who locked her and her summer days because that opened the door of creativity and unlimited adventures.

Published in Experience, Stories, True Story on

Responses

  1. Nikita

    This story beautifully captures the bittersweet experience of spending summers indoors as a child, juxtaposed with the blossoming of creativity and imagination. The initial contrast between the excitement of other children embarking on grand adventures and the narrator’s confinement within the four walls of their room evokes a sense of longing. The portrayal of workaholic parents prioritizing their careers showcases the sacrifices made in the pursuit of success.

    However, within these limitations, the narrator finds solace in the world of storybooks, sketchbooks, and crafts. The description of the morning routine and the household chaos sets a vivid backdrop, creating a sense of familiarity. The visit to the neighbor’s kitchen becomes a small act of rebellion, as the narrator indulges in the breakfast they had previously disapproved of, adding a touch of playful rebellion to the narrative.

    The story then shifts focus to the narrator’s inner world, their dreamland filled with creativity and unlimited possibilities. Here, the confinement becomes a catalyst for imagination, unlocking the door to adventures and self-expression. The appreciation expressed towards the parents for inadvertently nurturing the narrator’s artistic spirit adds a heartfelt touch to the story.

    Overall, this story highlights the power of the human spirit to find beauty and inspiration even in seemingly mundane circumstances. It reminds us of the importance of nurturing our creativity and embracing the imaginative worlds that lie within us, no matter the limitations we may face.