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Your earliest memories
- By Beejadhur Sewumber
- Published 10/14/2006
- Model Essays
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Beejadhur Sewumber
Born: Aug 21, 1949 Primary Ed. : 1962 Secondary Ed. : 1967 Univ. Ed.: 1978 Joined Nec Staff: 1979
View all articles by Beejadhur SewumberOnce I had been sprawling in my father’s study which was strictly forbidden. Suddenly, I noticed an attractive ink pot. Curiously, I grabbed it but accidentally spilled it on my dress and the floor. With running imagination, I tried to rub the floor dry with a towel from the kitchen. In fact, I succeeded only in making large blue spots. When all was discovered, Mother’s smile covered up Father’s anger, and I giggled as she washed me up.
I was very fond of my pet, a spaniel named Scamper. We had grown together, sharing joys and sorrows. On his death, I did not quite understand what was going on. Then, I only stared at it and the unusually sad looks of my parents. That evening, when I came to know the reality and that I would never see Scamper again, I let out bitter cries and refused to eat and drink. It was my saddest moment of my life.
On another occasion, I lost my cherished doll. I had slept with it and ‘fed’ it and cajoled it. It was my ‘life’. One day, I gave it a bath and put it in the sun to dry. At night, I forgot to take it as some other attraction was given to me. The next morning, when I remembered it, I went to take it, but it was soaked in the night rain. It was a dripping wet doll that I took into the kitchen hopefully to dry it in the gas stove. I was content enough to see that part of it had indeed dried up and my solution was soon going to work out. At one moment, my mother suddenly came in exclaiming my stupidity. As I made the shocking jerk, it fell on the fire and was burning. By the time she finished scolding me and came to put it off, the doll was burning beyond recovery.
Of all my childhood memories, these have marked me the most. I live with them till one day recount them to my grandchildren.
(484 words)
