Feb 21, 2004 02:39 PM
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(Updated Feb 21, 2004 02:39 PM)
I believe there are few whose view of life has not been affected by the stern or kindly influences of their early childhood, which threw them in upon themselves in timidity and reserve, or drew them out in genial confidence and sympathy with their fellow creatures.
I find childhood memories to be quite therapeutic and stress relieving. So a topic like “Favorite Childhood Books” brings back fond memories of those innocent years and a beautiful feeling when your world view is so different from what it is now.
Speaking of memories particularly in relation to books and reading habits, it would be important to clarify the context of timeframe, place and purchasing power that ones childhood has occurred. In my case, it was a middle class joint family in a suburban Mumbai in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Despite budgets in general being rather strained, there was a stress on education; hence spending on books was always encouraged. I supplemented my reading by joining some local libraries to source my regular requirement of books, which in addition to my purchases, helped in shaping my childhood and to an extent, my overall personality.
The earliest purchased books were the “Amar Chitra Katha” series which had a range of mythological, historical and legendary tales narrated in a lucid manner in comic strip form. A new title would be released each month and we used to rush to the book store to buy it. Since money was scarce, a group of 4 friends pooled in resources to buy one title each – so that in a year, I had to buy only 3 books. Once a total of 10 books was collected, we used to get them bound together to make a thick volume. I remember making a neat index for each of the volumes with multicolored pens. So apart from feeding me tales from *Ramayana and Mahabharata, these also introduced me to the innumerable kings of ancient India as well as fables such as the Panchatantra and the Jataka tales. This was in addition to the monthly magazine **Chandamama which had a range of stories similar to Amar Chitra Katha, apart from regular contests and quizzes.
The other comics that I got to read, mainly due to my visits to the library, were the Indrajaal comics – which covered titles such as Phantom and Mandrake, and staple fare such as Richie Rich, Archie and Sad Sack. I used to love Richie Rich and other characters like Gloria, Reggie, Cadbury, Dollar the dog, and all their antics. Over time, only Archie remained and I outgrew Richie Rich. Then came the lovely series, Asterix & Obelix and Tintin’s Adventures. These used to be giant sized cartoon based stories, which I used to follow quite religiously, noting down the entire list in the series to make sure that I had not missed any. Occasionally, I did get a Hans Christian Andersen book and lost myself in those fairy tales.
When Mom and Dad felt that I was spending too much time reading comics, they decided to encourage me into reading “proper” books. So I got a new book, it was Enid Blyton’s “Mystery of Holly Lane”. That was my first unputdownable book and I remember getting a scolding for not coming to the dinner table on time, just because I wanted to finish reading the climax. I was soon hooked to this series – it was called “The Five Find-Outers”with five kids, Fatty, Larry, Daisy, Pip and Bets and there were 15 books in all. I started identifying with their small village, Petersburgh and the lush green English countryside and tried to search the atlas for its whereabouts, planning a visit there someday. I managed to beg, borrow (no not steal) and finish the entire series eventually.
Enid Blyton then led me to her other series, Famous Five and Secret Seven, which were on similar lines. Although I did read them, I did not find any of these as gripping as the Five Find-outers. Apart from her thrillers, I also read a few of her other books like *Mallory Towers, Children of Willow Farm, Six Bad Boys, * etc., most of which I had received as Prizes for outstanding performance at school (ahem!)
At around age 10, Enid Blyton began to feel a bit kiddish and there felt an acute need for some more thrills and daring stunts. There came in the Hardy boys, Frank and Joe along with their fat friend, Chet. These guys lived in a US city called Bayport and carried out the most thrilling (to my mind at that time) adventures which had me rooting for more. Once again, a round up of the entire series and I was still not satiated. Nancy Drew was another similar series (supposedly by the same author as Hardy Boys, but under a different pseudonym) which was targeted at the girl readers. But I found these too quite a compelling reading and soon, I was hooked. (I must admit, that for fear of being ridiculed about reading girly books, I used to make sure my reading remained as discreet as possible).
The last phase of childhood (in the context of innocence, I mean) went on to more complex stuff like Agatha Christie thrillers and Perry Mason novels. Dame Agatha got me so badly addicted that all my earlier trysts with thrillers seemed quite tame. The whodunits were so brilliantly written that try as much, one could never guess who the killer was until the last chapter. Her “Murder of Roger Ackroyd” is one of the best murder mysteries ever written.
After this phase, of course, I graduated to the non-kiddy books like James Hadley Chase and Robert Ludlum – which meant a gradual loss of innocence. Today sometimes I stumble upon one of my childhood books which I have carefully stacked away in the attic, those fond memories surge back as I descend into nostalgia.
