Rewind and Replay

There are some memories from childhood one never forgets. The freedom, the innocence, the fun, the games.... and the goof-ups! Although I was a very 'decent' child, who wouldn't get into trouble  - yes, an achcha bachcha of sorts - I have done some inanely idiotic things, which will be written in golden letters in the annals of my family history. Without further ado, I let you be the judge. 
Remember dear reader, all these events occured when I was 6-10 years of age. They do NOT in any way reflect my current mental stability. Please do not have any doubts, I am much older and much wiser (?) since then.

Curious case of the Razor: There I was in the bathroom, shoved by mom to take a bath. What a boring thing to do! That's when my eyes fell on dad's razor. I knew what it was for, but had no clue how it works. And in that state of ignorance, I grab the razor. I continue to fiddle, little realising the blades were working wonders on my fingers. Hardly minutes into the process, I see cuts on all fingers! Bloods isn't oozing out, but they are cuts and it hurts nevertheless. Sure of being reprimanded for the same, I quickly run out of the bathroom, go to the cabinet and take a pack of Band-Aids and run back. I wrap a Band-Aid each on ALL my fingers. I really looked like I should be walking off to the next concert and playing mridangam (haven't you seen how mridangam players wrap bandage around their fingers to protect 'em?). And you know why I did that? I was thinking "Mom can't see the cuts; so she won't know that I played with the razor"! Am I smart or what! The moment I step out of the bathroom, mom could (but of course) see my fingers wonderfully wrapped in Band-Aids. Rest was as expected. Sigh. So much for my smart thinking.

Recoil: One fine evening, I had an urge. To curl my (already curly) hair. It must have been all the beauty programs I'd seen on TV.... women with curlers in the night, waking up to beautiful curls in the morning. So what do I do? Of course, no curlers here, but I decide that all I need is a comb. The next thing I do is grab a bunch of hair from the front and roll it on the comb. Err... but I hadn't thought this through. The moment I try to 'unroll' the plan unravels! Result? I look more like Frankenstein having a screw sticking through his neck (here, I had a comb sticking out of my head!) Neither can I roll it down or up. Sheesh! So much for experimenting. I walk to my mom with a petrified stare... she got the rest. She wasted the whole evening and night trying to detach my hair from the comb. She tried her best not to cut it, but some portions were unrelenting. And so I had an odd fringe; a grim reminder of what happens if you try to tamper with your locks!

The pox: This is about the time I had caught chicken pox. Curiously, my sister didn't catch it from me. Here I was, pockmarks and all, itching myself and without bath for some days. One such day, mom was combing Viji's hair after bath. Viji looks at me, and a sadist that she is (yes, I am gonna get from her for this!), she mocks me by saying "Look at you, you haven't bathed. I am so clean and see here... my hair has also grown longer than yours!" That was the last straw that broke the (pox-ridden) camel's back. I was mad at my fate (?), for having chicken pox. Suddenly I become furious and start screaming "I am going to suicide!" Mom was bewildered beyond imagination. And you know what? I was actually going to! I opened the window and was about to jump! Mom got scared and she pulled me off. Then I ran to the kitchen - my eyes fell on a knife/scissors. I took that and was even going to stab myself! I have no clue ( till date) why I behaved like that then. Mom was in tears and it took some consoling to get me back to my senses. That anyway, had the intended effect. Dad marched home with a packet of potassium permanganate. I finally bathed in the purple water!

Sewing machine: Cousins and I were playing our kiddie games one day. So we wanted to make fake bus tickets. The method we resorted to was: take paper and make dotted lines with the help of sewing machine. You could get neat lines on paper, and you could tear 'em off on the dots (created by the needle of the sewing machine). I decided to make the tickets. It was in the night, and I was too much in a hurry to get the tickets made. After all, you've to just run pieces of paper under the needle, right? So I gently ease the paper under the needle and finger it along, so that the lines can be created. Mid-way, it's stuck. I realised I couldn't move my finger.... because... wait for it, the needle had gone THROUGH my finger! I gently called for help (no, I wasn't really perplexed!). I took it all well. But my aunt who saw, didn't. She came, switched on the lights, saw me and almost fainted! Then she gently freed me from the machine, blood was flowing and of course, there was a hole through my finger! That was settled next morning with a tetanus shot. I learnt my lesson: I was not good with needlework.

Apart from all the above mentioned wonderful things, I have one more memorable quote attributed to me. It so happens that in 5th standard, I was trying to do my math homework. I hated maths and was getting frustrated. Out of sheer desperation, I exclaimed aloud: "I wish I were getting married; then I wouldn't have to deal with Maths!". At which, I had everyone in the family in splits! I don't know how marriage came into the picture. Now I know (atleast, I think) that marriage is more complicated than Maths! I guess my basic premise for saying so was that I'd not have homework or studying to do when I'd be that age. Sigh.


There you go... my list of the silly. What does yours look like?