anonymoose

The earliest memories i have are of sitting in shining rays of light on the floor of my house playing with my toys, bashing them together, the smell of my dad's shirt after he came from work, the sound of my mother screaming at me to get wake up, and my temper tantrums when i never got anything i wanted, see i was an only child , and being an only child you get the license to bitch and moan, and i used that license to full advantage.i remember getting my hair cut, at the age of 4, and the barber saying that i was an unusually quiet child, i remember getting my arm cut open when by bike crashed with another kid's bike and my hand got caught in his brake wire, the skin split open and i could see my blood pouring out in bursts, i remember how my dad scooped my up in his arms and ran me to the hospital, i remember fainting in my father's arms looking up into his sweating and worried face. i think words cant describe the strength of a father's heart.i remember the "Gajar ka Halwa" ( Carrot Pudding for those who dont understand urdu ) my mother used to make in the winters, and those cold rides to the school, i also remember the days there were riots out on the street and my father would rush me back home from school 15 minutes after the school van had dropped me off to school.i remember my trips to Lahore to visit my cousins, getting hanged up by my ankles in a construction site, and having a fireworks war with the kids from my aunt's block, with me on the roof alone with an arsenal of fireworks and trusty slingshot. and how i made a kid cry when he stepped on a roof close to my vantage point, being on the high ground i let down a rain of fireworks, i bet that kid must have felt like he was in a real war zone with bricks blasting every which way around him and the constant cracks and bangs. those kids never messed with me after that, they knew i was one crazy kid :) with a bagful of firecrackers and not afraid to use em.i remember getting a really cool toy and taking it out to my friends, and having them break it and run home crying to my mom, who first scolded me and then held me in her arms and made me soup.i remember my first ever bike, it was purple with white handles and power rangers on the side. i remember my first anime, i think it was the guyver my father got if off a pal on a ship, my father worked in the shipping line.i remember changing schools and going to a new school, looking at all the new faces, feeling afraid and exited at the same time, weirdly enough didn't feel like an outsider, more like detached watching a story unfold, even now as i sit in front of my screen typing out my earliest memories part of me wonders if i guessed this would be happening. by the way do not for a second assume that i am claiming to predict the future, all i am saying is i have always felt unplugged from reality, living like an outsider, i'm sure a good psychologist would have a lot to say about what i write, if you ever get one to read my words, do let me know what they think.i remember the smell of freshly washed and ironed uniforms in the winter, and changing homes, i remember shifting to defence from the slums when i was very young, i even remember a day of terror when i was scared because all the lights were out, my mother holding me in my arms like i would evaporate if she let go and my aunt sitting beside me both worried like hell as the sound of gunshots shattered the night, i guess this is my way of saying that the shift was justified, see my dad believed that when your neighborhood turns into a war zone you change the neighborhood.i changed schools twice again and by the time i was 12 i had become an expert on making and leaving friends behind, you know i just realized where i got the habit of leaving people behind, to this day, i dont call my friends back, and sometime dont even receive their calls, and now i understand why that is, i know it is a poor justification, but it's the only one that sticks, some of my friends think that i am a jerk, and they are right, i am, or it's what i turned into.