I have one from when I was pretty little, I was sitting in a train staring at a bridge we were crossing, and happily blabbering random things like I always would to a child that was sitting in front of me. No we did not know each other, we were complete strangers, because when your in a train random strangers are bound to sit next to you anyway. But did I care? No.

I also remember when I saw a rainbow for the first and last time. It was pretty.. I liked it.. I wish I saw another rainbow..

I also don't tell ANYONE this, but I DO remember my dad's face. I just don't want to bother my mom with that information because I know she does not want me to know a single thing about the man. I also know his name as of recently when I was scavenging through old books and found a baby book. It was a family tree. My dad was obviously on the family tree. I made the mistake of telling my mom and the name was immediately erased off. The memory in which I remember his face is of me stuck on a ladder because I climbed it and was too scared to get off. It was amusing to my parents. To me, not as much.

I also remember fragments of memory from when I lived in Bombay. Of my apartment, and one of me being bullied over cotton candy by a MUCHHH older boy. I wasn't even in KG back then, of course I was little. 

I've never really had cotton candy after that.. I don't even know why..

I've never really bothered my mom with her separation from dad like, ever, until now when I finally got enough of the silence and decided to nag her about it, mostly because I knew from the start that it would bother her if I asked, and it was much better to pretend to be oblivious. I would also just accept anything that my schoolmates assumed about him, like 'he died in a car crash' or whatever. I mean its not my problem, why should I bother correcting them.

And unlike most people assume, I am not sensitive at all towards the topic of my father. I could not care less. I only cared about WHY he was a bad person, and I got the answer, and I am perfectly content with life the way it is. I never bonded with him since he was NEVER there. So I really, REALLY didn't give a fuck about him. Go die for all I care, dad. (Maybe he did.. who knows)

I also remember when I first stepped foot into this house in Bhopal after living in Bombay for god knows how long. Don't ask why I'm saying Bombay, I'm used to it okay. I saw my grandparents for 'the first time' (I had in fact not seen them for the first time. I'd just moved to Bombay to live with my father at a really young age like a few months maybe, and didn't really spend a lot of time here to be able to remember them in the first place.) And for years to come I kept asking my grandpa his name. I seriously did though. I kept forgetting even my now deadname sometimes.

We (grandpa and me) played cricket. Since he was obsessed with cricket. Well I did the bowling for the most part, I wasn't really good at batting.. I literally flung my bat on someones head when I was playing cricket at school, so I would say cricket is off my list of sports.

I also remember my great grandmother giving me pieces of jaggery every single day, and bournvita powder by itself because I loved eating it like that. I still do, my parents just never let me anymore.

Until next time!