Rememberance

The Sweetness of Rasbari greeted me every night with the goodnight. My mother bought it from the old Sweet shop in my neighborhood which stood in the same place for many years. Sweet makers even knew me. They smiled at me every time I came across. I was shy and used to hide behind my mother , peeking slowly from behind.

My relationship with the sweets has always been intimate. There are some tiny little things in life that i can't forget. I remember those cold winter mornings, when I used to wake up with the ringing bells from our praying room with sweet smell of incense. I rubbed my eyes and went directly to my mother , who used to be in the kitchen and hugged her tightly. She prepared meanwhile warm tea for the whole family. Almost every winter morning on our balcony , a bowl of iron was used for burning firewood and coals. Me and my sisters used to sit right next to it to make ourselves warm enjoying the freshly prepared black tea with cardamons.

I never liked going to school. There was nothing better in the world for than to stay at home with my mother and watch her do kitchen and household stuffs. She completely disagreed of course. I had to come with an idea . Early in the morning I used to pretend that I had some random sickness. She found out most of the times but sometimes it did work. The best part was that I used to get up as soon as my school bus went away. She hated it but later she would forget about it.

We always had American and English Students at our home. We were host family for those students and of course I used to enjoy a lot every time we had one. It was perhaps the best possible way for me to learn their language. I learned most of the English because of it as well. I could never forget the first time , when I ate pasta. A girl from Connecticut made some pasta for us. It was an amazing dish with lots of tomato sauce and cheese, in comparison to what we normally ate at home. In Nepal , people eat normally rice two times a day with lots of vegetables and pulses. Pasta was of course something new.

I started playing tennis. I came in contact with a 70 year old tennis teacher who had his own tennis club within a school and with the help of my sister who used to teach small children in his school. The old man was very nice and gave me free tennis lessons. Sometimes he did loose his temper when we kids made mistakes but nevertheless its humane. I even brought Tennis Racket and Balls back home and he never said anything about it. He had passion for sport and very healthy guy indeed.

My parents did not like the idea that I was getting much deeper into my interests rather than thinking something practical. Tennis is considered as one of the most expensive sports and for the middle class family like mine, it was impossible to afford the costs of the game. It is considered as the game of the high class society in Nepal and there are few tennis courts available in 5 Star Hotels. With the help of my coach, I did manage to get into these courts where I saw few handful of Nepalese and the rest were all foreigners. I saw white kids same age as mine, practicing and playing with their parents supporting around them. White kids always made a group , no one talked to me. I just stood in the corner. I did not have proper tennis outfit as well. Anyways I entered the tournament and won few rounds. I did not dare to tell my parents because they hated it so much. Well I had to quit. I don't regret it because from my point of view I lived Agassi Moments. I regret nothing out of life.