Our favourite family time spent together is when we walk to the neighbourhood library. Our daughters and I have library cards of our own. Cards stuffed in our pockets, off we go, marching to the Port Credit library, armed with books to return; and a duffel bag to carry home newly checked out ones. On the way, we count and recount how many new books we’ve managed to read during the month. Together, we’ve read books on fairies, unicorns, bunnies, teenagers, immigrants, Obama and Turkish women. Imagine the places all those books have taken us!
Today’s library visit was a full circle moment. We came home with two Enid Blyton’s, The Magic Faraway Tree and The Famous Five on a Treasure Island. Enid Blyton was my constant companion while growing up. She patiently sat beside me on many a languorous hot summer afternoon when I would be on jamun trees duty. My nani (maternal grandma) would ask us to shoo away any rogues who came looking for juicy jamuns off her trees just outside the perimeter of the house. A stick longer than our (my friend, sister and me) collective sizes was handed, and we were to tap it every few minutes as a signal that the Mini Jamun Vigilantes were on high alert, while nani enjoyed her afternoon siesta. Who better than the wonderful characters of Malory Towers and St Clare’s to give us company and transport us to the cool, jamun-free city of Cornwall!
“Oh, you’re in for a treat girls! You will find so many little women like yourself in Enid’s writings,” I squeal in delight as I hug them both. “And wait till you meet The Angry Pixie, The Saucepan Man, the Famous Five, including Timmy the dog.” I take their picture holding the books and WhatsApp it to my friend. We both used to share the entire collection of Famous Five and Secret Seven and knew all characters by heart. Through Enid Blyton, we discovered a world of food beyond our good old samosas and rasgullas. Who knew what sorcery tarts, jacket potatoes and cold meat cuts were! They just sounded so irresistibly delicious, even better than our Sunday aloo paranthas.
{{/usCountry}}“Oh, you’re in for a treat girls! You will find so many little women like yourself in Enid’s writings,” I squeal in delight as I hug them both. “And wait till you meet The Angry Pixie, The Saucepan Man, the Famous Five, including Timmy the dog.” I take their picture holding the books and WhatsApp it to my friend. We both used to share the entire collection of Famous Five and Secret Seven and knew all characters by heart. Through Enid Blyton, we discovered a world of food beyond our good old samosas and rasgullas. Who knew what sorcery tarts, jacket potatoes and cold meat cuts were! They just sounded so irresistibly delicious, even better than our Sunday aloo paranthas.
{{/usCountry}}All of us live through two childhoods. One with our parents, and the other one with our children and/or nieces and nephews. It’s a privilege to be able to enjoy both, but if one is truly lucky, your children become the bridge between your childhood and parenthood. The most savoured moments with our kids have rekindled the joy we once felt nearly two decades ago. I feel it every time the four of us sing along to the Backstreet Boys in the car. I also witness it when my husband flies the kite with both the girls, regaling them with ‘pecha’ stories replete with running amok balconies with his brothers all over Muktsar! Along the course of life, the treasure chest of happy moments brims with such moments.
As American novelist Tom Robbins says, “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.” And my cup runneth over. seeratsandhu25@yahoo.com
The writer is a Canada-based freelance contributor