~Precious Memories~. Review on Favourite Books Of Childhood

Well, I wanted to make my (official) comeback at MS really good… I wanted to write on something that was very close to my heart. Moreover, when I went over my reviews, I realized (horror of horrors) that I had not yet written on my favorite hobby- reading! So, wanting to somehow improve on this gross mistake of mine, I tried to think of what books I could write about…. But then I decided, (as Julie Andrews once put it..) ”Lets start from the very beginning, a very good place to start….”! And by now you all must be well aware of my particular fascination for the favourite lists.. so the topic!

~ My childhood and books ~

I think everyone who’s written on this topic, considers books an essential part of their childhood, and also a part of their being- what they are today. But to me, books have also been a part of something much more precious- My Memories! As a result, when I read a book today, that I had happened to read in my childhood, it’s the memories that the book brings with it that makes the re-read even more joyous and fulfilling. So (without wasting any further time!)…. Let me quickly introduce you to Three of my most vivid and wonderful memories….

Note: Please excuse me as I slip into the place of a Second person, because the Aroo, you’re going to read about has changed a lot, and is perhaps a totally different person today! I write as myself in the normal font at the end of every passage.

Memory One: In a small town somewhere in Southern Gujarat, there was a small family. A small family of three (which is four now), and the centre of whose attention was this little girl called Aroo. Now, Aroo’s dad (Appa as she called him) was an avid reader, and wanted to introduce Aroo to the wonderful world of books. But he wanted to do it with a book that would etch itself in her mind forever. He thought about who could spin that web over his child’s imagination. And found his answer. The man was Mr. K.M. Munshi. And the book (or book series) was called Krishnavatara- translated, which meant, the avatara of Krishna. But he was wrong. The books did not etch themselves in the minds of Aroo- they infact, did much much more! They made her want to hurry through the day, finish her dinner as quickly as she could, and at eight pm sharp settle down with her parents, as her dad read out yet another mesmerizing chapter out of the book. And she demanded everyday that one more, just one more chapter be read. As a result, the one chapter stretched to two, three… and in many cases even five! The book had truly cast a spell over her… As she visualized what the man, a true devotee, had written of this magical blue boy, she fell in love with the books, and couldn’t wait till she could herself read and understand what was written in those captivating pages. Little did her father know that his efforts had paid off in a single try! Aroo was in love… with books of course!

K.M. Munshi could, unfortunately, write only seven books in the series before he passed away. And till date, the part of the Mahabharata that was not covered by him, is a total blur to me. Such was the passion in this man’s writing skills, that I have not been able to read anything concrete on this great epic, other than that written by him.

Memory Two: As Aroo sat, with a chin in her cupped hands, at her grandparents’ place, she wondered just how these hot summer holidays were ever going to be fun. She wondered what her grandpa (Tata as she called him) was looking for in the dusty old closet beneth the window. It was making him cough with all the dust, but his eyes sparkled from time to time as he removed one dusty book after another. After what seemed like eternity, he called out to Aroo to come and see what he had found. Aroo wondered what could possibly make her, usually grim grandpa, to get so excited. In his hands she saw a book. It read- Five on a Treasure Island. On the top, in print very fine, was scribed the name of the woman who would forever change Aroo’s perspective of books, her heroine- Enid Blyton. As her grandpa read out chapter after chapter, Aroo lived the lives of the characters of George, Anne, Dick, Julian and their dog Timmy, for exactly two days- Because that’s all it took for her (and her grandpa) to finish the book. Little did Enid know, in her peaceful abode, that she had found yet another fan, for life!

As I hear of all the JK Rowlings, and the Eoin Colfers, and the numerous other popular children’s writers today, I have a smirk on my face that reads, “Try and beat Enid Blyton to it- try and be the most popular children’s writer ever.” And this I do with a pride, almost as if Enid Blyton is mine and mine only- because thats what she’s always made me feel!

Memory Three: Aroo was growing up now, and getting into all sorts of problems in her school. She hated having to mug up her chapters in school. She hated to sit in the class the whole day. She hate the very fact that everyone expected her to do all this. So her worried mum happened to mention all this in a conversation with an old retired school teacher. And what he gave her, to give to Aroo, was one of the most wonderful gifts she had ever received. It was a book with a tattered cover, with the picture of a girl looking out of a window. The cover read- Totto Chan. It was a true story of a girl called Tetsuko Kuryonagi, who was a little on the naughtier side, and who got a chance to attend a wonderful school that understood her needs, in her own words. It was a book that opened Aroo’s eyes on what real schooling was all about. The innocence of Totto Chan touched her, and somewhere, Aroo related to her completely. Somewhere, Aroo knew she wasn’t responsible for all those problems in the school. The school was responsible! This was the gift that this wonderful book gave her- the realization that being yourself is a wonderful feeling!

Totto Chan, this wonderful book, is unfortunately rarely available in its English version in India. But that one encounter with the book has changed me completely, so do get a hand on it if you can!

So there you are… those were three of my most wonderful memories as a child. Didn’t want to include any others, because nothing can compare to these three! But of course there were the others too...

My first magazine- Gokulam, The St. Clares, Malory Towers, Tinkle, Amar Chitra Katha, and many many others... My friends for life!

Luv ya all!

Aroo