On a bright sunny day, with spring at its best, my two young cousins asked me to take them to the park. I couldn’t say no. I promised them I would, earlier. These are the series of shot I took that day.
They played in the park and I watched, at times asking them to pose for me. They were free, their eyes were still closed but they liked it better this way. Was I like this? I asked myself. And all I remember was that my childhood days were brief and colourful.
I remember so little of it. Many things I considered significant at some point in my life doesn’t take the most important part of my memories. I don’t remember the first toy set I owned or the first rhymes I learnt by heart.
What I remember is the one-room apartment me and my parents shared when I was 5. I also recollect playing marbles with my friends in the dusty street. The sound of the marbles jingling in my pockets still rings in my ears.
Hanging out with friends, carrying catapults, shooting the little blue tits and the white orientals, running frantically every time a catapult shot hit a roof – all these formed an important part of our evenings.
During holidays we would play football or hide and seek. Often destroying gardens and getting a good whacking. Running home after class on Friday was one of the most amusing thing for us.
Well, of all things, I remember that some of my dearest possessions were a digital watch, a handful of colourful marbles, a horse blade and some vintage postcards.
Watching my cousins while still in “deja vu”, my younger cousin brother ran to me and asked me to take care of his marbles while he played. He counted them carefully and put them in my.pockets saying “Don’t lose them, okay?”. He reminded me of my childhood days and in him I got a bit of my childhood days back.
When I asked them to come over and blow the dandelions I had got for them, they came running. It was the first dandelions they blew, I don’t remember blowing them when I was young. But it seemed to have taken a big part in my childhood days.
Like the dandelions there are things that are obscure, but somehow brings to me a bit of my childhood days. There are fragrances which makes me miss something I never owned. I wonder if these fragrances were associated with me when I was young.
Again there are those tunes that makes me melancholic and miss my childhood days. Could I have heard them as lullabies when I was young? I never know.
I know, my childhood days are long gone. But I wonder if we get to have two phases of childhood? One that went by swiftly when we were too young to grab a hold of it and control it. And the other, when we sit in the park or anywhere, seeing our childhood in another child. And living it all over again.
We went back and they asked me for crayons. I bought one pack each for them. Back home they started drawing little houses and sceneries with the sun rising from the mountains and rivers flowing in the between the mountains. Yes, I drew them too when I was young.
[ The Author and Photographer, is Worngachan A. Shatsang. A budding 18 year old writer and photographer, you can follow him on Instagram @shatsang_97. Or follow his latest updates on Facebook – Worngachan A Shatsang ]
