Wiki ~Fee~ dia

I still haven’t got the Andy Kershaw autobiography yet but I’ve been listening to the Daily Bacon podcast over and over again, marvelling each time at the chaotic nature of the interview between Andy and Richard. Andy was on fine form and talking ten to the dozen while Richard steered the interview through its many twists and turns with good humour. Great fun to listen to. I love listening to Richard Bacon on 5live as well as radio 4, radio 4 extra, 5live, 6music and Asian Network. Since getting a digital telly, I’ve been listening to a lot more radio programmes and discovering the joys of radio as entertainment rather than just listening for the music.

But I digress. Andy got me recalling some memories of my own. I remember as a little girl declaring to my mum that I was going to write an autobiography (yes, I was that precocious and annoying). Would the seven year old girl that was me be very disappointed to meet the adult I am now? I would veer toward a ‘yes’ but even as a child I felt the keen disappointment of an unfulfilled life. My head was stuck in Famous Five books and I yearned for adventure which never came. I didn’t have any crazy uncles who owned a private island. I didn’t have any friends who went camping in the hills drinking bottles of ginger beer. My friends were lame. I was lame.

But life isn’t really about that is it? All that gallivanting and adventure? Maybe I’ve set the goalposts a lot smaller but I think it’s the tiny details that can be just as significant as the ‘big’ moments in one’s life.

My life is as insignificant as a dust mote. But it’s still my life and it means something to me.

So I want it noted somewhere, even if it’s just a tiny, unvisited corner of the internet, the puzzle pieces of my memory that helped to form me as a person. A reminder to say you were here; you lived and breathed and mattered.

Let’s take a walk down memory lane. I’ll start with a few childhood memories:

v Your first trip abroad that you can remember was to Bangladesh when you were five yrs old. One of the maids (or ‘helpers’ as my nana made everyone call them) held you over the apartment balcony where you were three or four floors up. You honestly thought she was going to drop you and cried until nani (grandma) came and scolded the maid. This might be the reason why you’re afraid of heights and can’t even stand on a chair without feeling your ankles might break.

v Your favourite teddy bear came from a summer fete. You wanted the pink one but because your brother knew that he immediately wanted it for himself. You made a deal and traded it for a yellow and orange one which became your treasured possession. You came into your room one day and found it hanging from the doorknob with a noose round its neck. Brother could be heard laughing in the next room.

v You still hadn’t learnt your lesson from the previous point. You were given a marigold plant to care for. You watered it with your own pink watering can everyday and even talked to it. The plant flourished and was ready for planting. You were excited to plant it with your dad. Your brother suddenly declared that he wanted to plant your marigold. You were so upset and angry about your brother trying to take over something that you cherished and which meant nothing to him that you threw the plant in the trash. It hurt you to see it lying there and it was taken out and eventually planted in the garden by your father. Life lesson learnt: never openly declare your love or passion for anything because people will just want to take it away from you.

v You still can’t watch ‘The Thief of Baghdad’ without being scared senseless. Same thing goes for any ray harryhausen movie. You saw a school programme on religious festivals which fuelled a lifelong fear of religious statues.

v As a child there were two places on earth you wished to visit: Mecca and Disneyland. By 14 years old, you had accomplished both. This reminds you of your privileged upbringing and how lucky you have been.

v Your first memories are of when you lived in Talgarth, Wales. All your memories are bathed in a haze of yellow sunshine. It always seemed sunny. You lived in a big house which had a cricket pitch over the garden wall. A stream ran at the bottom of the front garden. You collected conkers from the tall oak trees by holding up the hem of your dress. You played poohsticks at the bridge and watched your twig floating downstream just like in the Winnie the Pooh books. You got a scar in your eyebrow because your brother's friend threw a sharp pebble at you (stupid little git!). There was a family whose son played with your brother. You remember seeing the mother walk barefoot on the gravel drive and wondering how painful that was. They had a bathtub filled with goldfish at their house. It seemed magical to you.

v You remember the first school friend you had. It hit you like a lightning bolt the moment you saw her walking in late to reception class. You were close friends until she moved school. Her parents came to visit the house once. Your mum wanted to show them the new wallpaper in your bedroom. You could hear them coming up the stairs with your mum. They stopped outside your bedroom door while your friend’s dad read out the extremely pedantic bedroom entrance rules tacked on your door, which you had written specifically for your boundary-encroaching brother (‘knock three times and wait until permission before entering!!!’ ‘You may not enter without permission!!!’). Hearing the rules being read aloud in a deadpan voice had you almost eating your fist to stifle the giggles as you stood behind your bedroom door. It was the funniest thing you’d ever heard. You’re no longer in touch and your friend’s dad passed away a few years ago but you dearly wish you could tell this story to your long lost friend. It was one of many happy memories that you cherish.