Teach your child ..


  1. Teach your child ..
Coming back to Guntur, at the age of 4 years , I have a very vivid incident in my memory, It was the time that my mom beat me with coconut broom sticks. As I was very fondly child to my parents, I used to show authority over the constables who work in our home, and the servants who help my mom. My mom used to teach me all good manners etc, she never allowed me to use foul language at all. She particularity told me that i should not show authority over the workers in the home or use any bad language. I do not know where i picked up a foul word, but once I used it on the servant in the home. When my mom heard it, she came with the broom stick and gave me left and right with it. I cried and cried aloud, but without mercy she punished me, that was the only incident i remember that my mom beat me at all. But it was very good punishment for me because I never used that foul word in my life again.
there were little boys and girls in our street, and mom never allowed me to go out into the street to play with them. But without her knowledge I used to go out, may be when she was taking siesta, and used to play with them the game named Bachcha.. a game where we used to pile the cigar pack covers and hit them with a flat stone from distance. wow it was a thrilling game for me, I used to play with them. and get scoldings from mom for spoiling my dress with dust.
My dad used to have all gadgets of entertainment in our home. Like we used to have a very BIG gramaphone, I used to sit near it and observe the picture on the records, a dog and a speaker, with words, my Master’s voice. My dad told me those words and meaning. We used to have a very Big radio too. And my dad got an extension for it with small speaker box, into the kitchen, where my mom can listen to the radio while cooking, this extension box was so fascinating to me, some times i used to beg my dad to give me that box to keep it in my lap. I wondered how it can speak like that. One day I mad my dad to open it to see whether there were men inside, when i saw some small wires and nodules, i thought those must be the little men in side the box who are talking out.
I used to spend hours together keeping the box in my lap.
My dad bought Nail cutter, and it was great fun to me , as my dad himself used to cut my nails and colour them some times. My mom was very much against me having nail polish and lip stick, but I loved my dad for he was the one who used to bring all those things for me. He used to buy the best dresses for me, like silk skirts, and red and green velvet blouses, and two finger rings with red and green stones, and nice gold chain etc, Once we had a photo me sitting in between two chairs leaning on my dad, he kept his hand on my shoulder and talking to the photographer, he was just feeling the velvet blouse of mine while he was talking, and i felt so cozy, and i did not move an inch , lest he may take away that hand from my shoulder, u can see that picture and can see me how obediently i sat there, enjoying the warmth of my dad’s love.
Once dad wanted to have my photo so he called the photographer, you know in those days the photo was taken with much pomp and glory, we used to get ready atleast for an hour, choosing the dress, ornaments, etc. Even the photographer used to take lot of time to set his equipment to take one photo. Ultimately every thing was ready and I was asked to stand on a stool, my mom tied my hair into two plaits with red ribbons, and dressed me with wheat colour silk flowery disigned skirt and blouse. When i stood there I was much fascinated by the spects of the photographer, and i wanted them immediatly, However my parents and the photo grapher tried to convince me not to ask them, I did not listen to them it seems, and my mom told me later that they asked the photo grapher to take me a little bit fatty as i was too thin to look at. I do not know was it possible in those days, but it seems i am chubby in that photo

My mom was joined in Khuglar’s hospital in Guntur for the delivery of my younger sister, whom we called her Baby, she was a premature baby, born in 7th month, When I was taken to the hospital, to see my mom and sister, there were two nurses namely Leela and Rani, who took me to the room where my mom was there. She was laing on a very white bed with white clothes. the baby was kept near her in an incubator. Mom told the nurses, “Leela may be afraid to see the baby, do not show her” But any way i managed to look into the incubator, and there lies a little one very very thin , in the white cotton folds, and with a electric bulb on top of her. Later i heard my mom telling her friends, that the baby was born after cutting her stomach, and they used to ask her to show it, she used to show the stitches on her stomach and they used to show their astonishment by saying ” oh my cutting the stomach and taking the baby, it is a wonder.” Then my mom used to describe the baby, when she was born she was like a little mouse, with thread like fingers, and big head and small body, the foreign doctors told dad that the baby cannot survive so leave the the child in the hospital and take mom home. But dad said,” No i will take the baby and take care of her in the Incubator at home. I will not leave my baby here in the hospital.” so he arranged a room for her with incubator, friends of mom and dad used to come to see the baby tip toed and used to see the baby from distance, and go. Because often they used to say that i will be afraid to see the baby in the hospital, even though i was not really afraid to see her, i pretended that i was afraid and hid my face in the shoulder of the nurse who took me there. and all of them said, ” see see, she is afraid and took me out of the rrom. though i did not like to to go out, i had to go out because i pretended taht i was afraid. Funny. Later in the room Dad brought VAttivrellu and hung them all over the room to give a cool climate in the room. he used to wet those root curtains with water for coolness of the room. My dad used to take me into his lap and teach me many things, especially English language. He used to bring books for me with A B C letters and pictures. I still remember the letter C and cup B and the bun. I used to have a very big doll which i never leave anywhere.

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Hello All! I am a retired Lecturer, Former Air Hostesses, and a writer. I love to share MY STORIES, WITH MY GOD.

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