I remember me

We had an invite for a birthday celebration tonight. Mum, Dad and I. It was a lovely surprise finding our cousins assembled at one place. My niece turns sixteen today and my guess is that the party was a result of all the VH1 teenagers have been watching nowadays. I wonder if this is one of the signs of us growing up but I cannot seem to remember the names of all the children running around, neither do I remember who the respective parents are. So I was introduced to a whole tribe of under eighteens, all of them cheerful and pumped up for the evening ahead. Once my cousin showed up with her most beautiful son, who is my absolute favourite grandchild, we went up to the dance room where the real fun was. 

A fair number of girls were seated all around the double bed eagerly waiting for the tiny hostess, the birthday girl's ten year old sister, to play some chartbusters. The initial hesitation was expected but some fifteen minutes later the atmosphere was charged up. Girls, surprisingly quite a number sporting pixie cuts, were busy copying each other's moves. The tiny hostess was the star of the night though in all her Bollywood glory. Apparently she attends some Bollywood dance class during the week. What a lovely idea, I thought.

Even in the midst of such noise, pretty soon my mind was wandering back to the golden days when I was the same age. I remember watching my sisters dance their heart out while I sat in the corner, shy and quiet. Ofcourse, many a times I joined them but it wasn't a frequent affair. Tonight I saw Aie Liz, Aie Phum, Yanks and myself in each one of them. Childhood is such an important and probably the best time of our lives. You grow up worrying about a broken tooth or a bruised knee, and the only tension in our minds was that of completing our home assignments