Whistling Past The Memories: Episode 3 - The first stitch
It was a bright and beautiful morning. Swara stayed on the 10th floor and her apartment had ample sunlight. There was greenery all around. From her spacious balcony, she looked at the parrots singing happily. This lifted her spirits and she immediately went to her room and decided to write. She began:
“Hi, there!
This incident happened when I was five. I was in the 1st standard. My aunt who lived in Mumbai had come to visit us. Hindi, as a subject, was just introduced to us in school. She was helping me as I struggled to read out Hindi words from my book.
Mom was in the kitchen making some goodies. I was getting bored of reading Hindi and made an excuse to go to the toilet. Those days we had only one toilet, at the far end of the house. As soon as I left the room, I first ran straight to the kitchen to see what exactly my mom was making. Our house had a smooth mosaic flooring and there was water on the floor in the kitchen. I slipped and boom, I fell. There was a stool with sharp-edged corners in the kitchen and the bridge of my nose hit the corner of the stool. Blood gushed out and mom was petrified. She thought I lost an eye and there was blood all over my face.
She immediately picked me up and realised I was hurt in the bridge of my nose exactly between my eyes. She could even see my bone.
Dad was working late in office that day. Autorickshaws weren’t easily available and mom had no choice but to carry me to the doctor’s clinic. She carried me with her arms outstretched as she felt she could contain the blood oozing out by keeping me in a horizontal position. She had to walk a good 10 minutes. On our way, all I kept asking her was whether I was gonna die. I really thought so, looking at the blood all over. More than the pain, mom’s worried face made me nervous. She still kept her cool, consoling me and assuring me that I’ll be alright. We reached the clinic and thankfully the doctor was still there.
I don’t remember what happened next. About half an hour later, I had 3 stitches and a bandage over my nose! Dad reached by then and he carried me back home. All of us had a sleepless night and I was in a lot of pain.
It is surprising that most of these so-called ‘incidents’ have actually happened when dad was not around, so mom had no choice but to become ‘baahubali’! It’s not easy to carry a 5 year old and walk for 10 minutes, arms outstretched, that too, wearing a saree!
Some incidents are unforgettable. I spent the next few days in school explaining to everyone what happened to my nose!
The scar took years to fade but it is visible on my face even now, after so many years as a reminder of that eventful night. A millimetre’s difference would have cost me my eye! I always believe God takes care of children & have always felt blessed.
What a hyperactive kid I was and even now as an adult I haven’t changed one bit. Well, some things never change.
Anyway, that’s all for now. Until next time!”
Swara couldn’t believe she could finish writing this in 15 minutes! She went back to the balcony to enjoy the view.
