Some Memories

Every time I return to my parents' home, I would sit in my old bedroom or wander around and find something to rekindle memories of those days when I used to live there.

Those days are long past but sitting in my old bedroom would bring me a little back to the days when I was a lot more naive and happy.

This evening I found three of my favourite books when I was a child. They were in my brother's room, placed in the lowest corner of a bookshelf that was blocked by boxes of dunno-whats. They were now covered in dust and their pages were brittle with age.

I extracted them from their miserable state and wiped them clean. Lo! Still readable!



I read them to death as a child, so much so the pages came loose from their spine. I would secure the pages with sticky tape again and again every time the pages started to fall off.

I remember how, even after my parents put me to bed, I would pull out a little torch from under my mattress and read. When dad caught me and took away my torch, I took my books to the window and sat there reading with aid from the street lights.

No wonder my eyesight is terrible now!

Did you know I started wearing glasses since I was seven? I was among the tallest in class then and was put at the back row. I could not understand why I could not see the blackboard from where I sat. The day dad told me I needed glasses, I cried buckets. I was so sure no boy would like me if I wore glasses. :)

This is my favourite book of the lot, as it contained unusual fairy tales and many beautiful illustations. Needless to say, almost every page of this book is now secured precariously with tape. :)



And my favourite story from this book was the Twelve Dancing Princesses. It was about a king who wanted to solve the mystery of how the shoes of his 12 daughters would turn up all torn every morning. As the title let on, the 12 princesses sneaked off every night to another palace to dance till dawn. That's why their shoes were broken by daylight.

I would sit with the book at this page and marvel at the illustrations of the princesses' gowns. Perhaps to a six year-old girl, these gowns are the most beautiful ever, although not quite practical in modern day Singapore. Haha.



I remember once telling mummy how I would like to make myself one of those gowns when I am grown up, and mummy wisely told me to study hard so I may find myself a good job and earn enough money to pay someone else to make me beautiful gowns instead.

It is funny how this evening I recalled many things about my childhood.

Like how I hated creche - I had to be five then. I could not see sense in the games they played and refused to join in.

One common game the teachers made us play was to pair us up and gave us animal identities. We were then blindfolded, jumbled around with the others and had to find our partner by making the noises of the animal we were labelled as.

What was the point of this game, really?

Playtime also saw the girls in my group dressing up in discarded adult clothes. I saw no sense in doing that too.

So when it was time to play, I would take my colouring book and sit alone in a corner.

I related these memories to mummy this evening and she exclaimed, "Oh! No wonder you always looked so miserable when I came to pick you from creche!"

I remember too how mummy would bring me to her office when I was not at the creche, and I would sleep on the floor using her ring files as pillows when I am tired from reading.

Hmm, I think my early childhood wasn't all that fun. Maybe that's why I grew up weird.