Last Monday, I woke up at dawn down with abdominal pain and with a feeling of nauseating and high temperature. I had to bunk school.

Despite some home remedies, like mint and cumin seed water, I continued to feel the urge to vomit and the pain grew worse. I had to rush to the toilet a few times. When Father said that it could be the symptoms of dysentery, Mother did not want to run the risk of trying with home medicine, so she immediately rang up Dr. Chan and got an appointment.

Last Sunday, I felt that my mind was left with nothing to mull over. However much I tried to find an activity to get myself preoccupied, there was nothing for it. That is, it turned out to be a very boring day for me.

Form 5 Blue of New Educational College has some colourful characters. Sometimes, they  become troublesome; at other times they are useful in the institution.

Thappa Tondie. He is a fantastic artist who can sketch just about any one in minutes and can make eyes seem bigger and noses look much longer. His favourite features are ears that stick out as long as buck teeth. All my classmates has had their caricature done by him so that we all had lots of fun some time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I often sit by the window or lay thinking and recalling my earliest memories sometimes with amusement and at other times with nostalgia. My father tells me that I was quite mischievous but lighted hearted but sometimes quite affected.

 

On one occasion, I remember having taken the saw of my father and, with the help of a cousin, crept into the waiting room and sawed the leg of a chair. I just wanted to ‘show’ him what I was capable of. However, my plan failed. Instead of my father, an orthodox aunt called in and sat snugly on it, falling head first. My cousin and I chuckled. Seeing the stare of my father, we stopped laughing, but as soon as we saw his twisted smile, we did not bother about the ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ of my aunt. We had a good spanking.

During my early childhood, I was most afraid of a number of things among which were injections, cyclones, ghosts and drilling machines.

Though less important now, syringe needles would send shivers up and down my spine when I was a child. As I usually suffered from running nose and fever, our family doctor had to inject me with antibiotics and I can still recall my father holding me tightly for it. As for the school vaccinations, the sight of the medical team in our class made me imagine the excruciating pain. Worse still, I saw my classmates returning, crying and holding the cotton swab on the injection. A strong and fat nurse prevented me from escaping; I was crying until my turn came. When they saw that I was not being easy, a male nurse caught me and pulled me up. A female nurse rubbed a swab and just inserted the needle. When my agony was over, I came out  with firm decision that I would somehow avoid the next vaccination, but I was forced to be present on that day.

In my neighbourhood, where I have grown up in an atmosphere of friendliness and affection, we greet each other every time we meet and love to chat a little. One night, we were all awakened by shouts and screams. Outside, two police vans flashing their sirens had just halted. It was the first burglary which sent shivers down our spine.

 

Sams had just discovered that their new Television set was missing, so they called the police. All the inhabitants in the vicinity began to keep their doors closed. However, Mr. Harry became the victim of a burglary a week later; his wife’s jewels and two thousand in bank notes were gone. All the neighbours became united, and more soft-spoken, and mounted their own guard although the police now regularly patrolled the area.

On 21^st January 2006, Mother and I arrived at Central Flacq Bus Station eager to catch the Mahebourg bus which would start at 10. 10 am. It is a fourty kilometer journey that normally takes one hour. We joined the long queue of passengers, expecting it to be crowded. The red Isuzu bus lumbered to a halt at platform number four. When our turn came, we managed to squeeze in but I had to stand. I knew that it would not be easy with the summer heat beating down making the atmosphere stuffy.

17, Grand Chemin,
Bel Air.
10 October 2006.

To Barry Ghar,
18, Grand Chemin,
Bel Air.

Dear Mr. Ghar,

I’m writing to complain about the terrible noise you and your children make during the night. You're disturbing!

When do you intend to do something about the terrible noise from your television and radio? Your children play them in high volume; they must realize that they have neighbours who have right to tranquility. How many times do I have to tell you that your youngest son is rattling a tin with pebbles to make music? He’s irritating! When they are loudly singing and tapping on the table, I get on my nerves. Shouldn’t your wife do her motherly duty to stop them? Moreover, your dogs are always at war with each other. Growling and barking are common occurrences. We can neither sleep nor study. It’s fatiguing!

It was going to be the last day of the Ramadhan, our annual month of fasting. Around seven fifteen that night, we were looking up to the sky when we saw the beautiful crescent moon. We burst out with joy as we would be having an annual family feast the following day.

That morning, I woke up at about five, and, after the morning bath, I accompanied my father to Quatre Bornes Mosque for the first prayer of the day. We met others there. Then, we hugged everyone in turn. Returning home, I perfumed myself, as per our Muslim custom, and wore the new clothes which Father had bought specially for that occasion.