Children remember everything

As a young child, I lived with my parents and siblings  in a place that was not yet developped. The nearest public bus stop was some distance away from home and the roads were not yet constructed all over the colony. My school was a decent thirty minute walk away, in another colony next to ours. I had only recently started walking back home alone, so I had to be highly attentive and I remember going back home along with some girls who lived not far from my home. They usually had their mothers or family members who came pick them up. I just tagged along and walk behind them.

Some days if I was lucky, my Daddy used to come pick me up. Back then he had a bicycle and was about to become the proud owner of a motorbike. Or that's what I remember overhearing in conversations that he had with my brothers. I had one brother who was 21 and the other was 15. My eldest brother worked the whole day, so I rarely saw him in the day time. My second brother was more visible as he was still in school. We had the same schedules of early mornings and free afternoons and evenings. Since this brother knew that we would surely get a motorbike and he would probably be able to ride it someday, my Daddy had managed to convince him to come pick me up once in a while.

So, my usual habit was to reach the gate of the school when the bell rung, search for my Daddy or my brother, either go home with them or walk with the friends I knew lived close by.This one day however, when I was seven,I had a very severe tummy ache. I had excused myself several times during class to go to the rest room and I seriously didn't feel so good. I was too young to know what to do about my state and a bit too old to avoid feeling embarassed about it either.

As I reached the gate , I realised that I had lost sight of my friends due to the distress I was in and I also didn't find either my Daddy or my brother. I knew there was no quick solution. I would have to walk home. However, as I started walking I felt that my tummy was starting to ache again. I felt a huge stress at that moment because I knew I would have to reach a rest room quick but I knew that my home was just too far. I knew my niece lived in the street I was about to pass and decided maybe the best option would be to try to reach her home. Her grandmother, my mother's eldest sister was always at home.

Unfortunately, while walking towards her home, I felt my tummy give way and felt that I had soiled myself. I still remember the shock with which I realised what had just happened. I was scared to continue walking and at the same time scared to stop. Scared to look down at myself. I didn't want to start crying either because I didn't want anyone I know or didn't know stopping me on the way. I resolutely held onto my pride and shame and reached her home.

You must know that this niece of mine lived in a home that was a bungalow. Their bathroom and WC was on the outside corridor of the main house. They had a gate made of sticks and bamboo that anyone could shift. Even a seven year old girl like me. I rushed to the rest room. I had made a mess. I didn't know how to tell my Aunt what had happened because I was ashamed, terrified and also very scared of her. To be honest, she had a kind demeanor and I'm sure she would have helped me. But I was scared also about the fact that I may not be able to explain what had happened as she spoke only Malayalam and my Malayalam was a mix of a little bit of Malayalam and lots of words in English.

I remember cleaning myself as much as I could, washing my hands and then meeting her outside the WC. I remember fumbling with my words and not telling her what had happened. I just told her I had needed to use the rest room very badly.

I imagined her discovering that I had soiled myself, laughing at me and telling my entire family about what had happened. There used to be no telephones those days, so I knew that my mother would not know anything about it when I finally reached home. I started to cry and explained the situation to my mother. She helped me clean up and reassured me that all was ok. I visited my aunt for many years regularly after this incident and my aunt never made me feel inadequate or dirty. In fact she never mentioned it.

Only later in life I realised that was what was 'being an adult' and I was 'just a kid'.