Nobody told me,” You have a right to remain silent, any thing you say can be used against you” (In my case, these usages of my follies against me are perpetually for life).At a time, when repercussions seemed a far off danger, I had blundered. So badly, that it embarrasses me even in my dreams.
Like the way I said “THUBELYTHE” for tube lights when I was two, it is the wittiest thing for my parents. They laugh and laugh, take a break, look at me,”THUBELYTHE” and bursts in to laughter again. I sit and grimace and they look at me, searching for that humorous thing they had borne.
I think I trusted them too much to believe that they could deceive their only child, me. They made me believe that Amma would turn into Hulk and eat me, if I did not sleep by 10 in the night .Oh yes! Smart as a whip, I asked Acha*,”How could I be sure that she wouldn’t eat me when I slept?”Acha explained solemnly that Amma had no appetite for sleeping children. She had confided that eating sleeping-children gave her stomach pain. I nodded in agreement and went off to sleep by 9:30 pm. I was a total moron or a completely devoted progeny. I feel a heart wrenching love for my kid-self.
Apparently, it was not just my parents. Everybody in my family was out to get me. I loved mehandi. I used to put them overnight, until it became deep red. Ohh - the design was usually a big round and several small rounds around it. One morning, I ran out of my bed to show my uncles my little red hands that had been colored red by the overnight mehndi application. They told me that, it was not mehndi, but they were stains from the betel leaves my Grandpa had chewed. They briefed me how Grandpa had meticulously spat (in a design) on my little hands whilst I slept peacefully. I bawled my way to kitchen only to be whacked by Amma for being so gullible.
My dad had convinced me that he was an under cover cop and Mammooty’s best friend (I have a major crush on him. Proud Mallu, I know on whose side I stand.).I believed all that. Phew!
I do not mind being a fool, but being reminded of it for the rest of your life, that is cruel. Sniff! Sniff! I wish I had made some intelligent remarks in my early life. Some day when I become famous, people will read about my illuminating “THUBELYTHE” story, instead of some “kettle” incident.
When I saw my nephew say, “Shycle”, “skoodiver” and “fidge” (Cycle, Screwdriver and fridge respectively), I laughed indulgingly and told him secretly, ”Beware, my son, Grannies will remember and tell them your tales for generations to come..”
Now it is my turn, call it sadistic pleasure. I had convinced one of my cousins that I am an ex-student of Hogwarts and that Harry Potter was my junior. She asked me some mumbo-jumbo about HP and I answered most of the HP-trivia (The trivia she did not know was that her 27-year-old cousin was a fantasy freak who had devoured Harry Potter cover to cover.). Backed by a couple of other mischievous cousins we had her at tears end when we confessed that all of us except her are part of Hogwarts and it was out of pity that we were telling her the truth. My uncles (the same ones in the mehndi episode) convinced her that we were telling the truth.
*Acha-Achan,father in malayalam
*Acha-Achan,father in malayalam