Starlight Dinners
I used to live in Chennai when I was little, near the Santhome beach. Back then, we(parents and me) were an average struggling middle-class family and had bought our first flat without any loans. Naturally for a few years before and a few that followed, we were literally living hand to mouth. In those struggling days, is my most treasured childhood memory etched.
During that period, my parents could not afford to take me out to restaurants often. Our basic necessities were fulfilled, no doubt. But we didn't have the disposable income to spend on enjoyment. So what did they do?
Amma used to come back from work and cook dinner. She'd then pack this up in hot-packs. In the meanwhile, daddy would take out a neatly folded bedsheet from the cupboard and pack three plates and spoons along with it. We'd take all that and walk to the beach. The beach was only 5min away from home. Daddy then would pick a nice clean corner, put the sheet on the sand and amma used to serve us food. And in the starlight , cool sea breeze increasing our appetite, we would happily eat. There were no hawkers in the night, the beach was practically deserted and silent except for the soothing sound of the waves.
After eating, daddy and I would lie down with our heads on each of amma's lap looking at the stars. And he would tell me stories - stories from his childhood, flying kites, pranks that he and his twin would play on others, walking 3 hours everyday to go to school which was in the neighbouring village, stealing mangoes, studying in the next street's light and harassing teachers. Amma would tell me about her childhood stories and city life . I would then shoot my random questions at them about life, people, science, geography, anything, and they would patiently answer. If I was in the mood, I would sing
them a nice Carnatic song. After spending an hour or so like that, daddy would buy me a kucchi-ice(ice cream that you get on a stick) or a pot kulfi. But they never bought for themselves. It never occurred to me that they might be deliberately not spending on themselves to save money....
Eating the ice cream, we would walk back home. All those stories, amma's warm lap and the cool breeze would have me ready to sleep as soon as I lay on the bed.
I don't remember what made those nights so special. Amma cooked nothing special - just ordinary yogurt, rice and potato curry or just coconut rice or just tamarind rice. The days they picked to go were not special holidays or weekends, normal week days picked at random and very often. And those stories were probably repeated many times. The ice cream was definitely not the bait as my thatha(grandpa) used to buy me chocolates or cakes or ice creams stealthily very often. Yet when I remember those nights, it makes me happy, lifts my spirits. Makes me feel as though I was a princess....
The rich had reservations and candle light dinners, we had leftovers and starlight dinners.
So what's your most precious childhood memory?
