Day 3 (3rd June 2020) : A memory

I have bundles of them that I would love to share. But I am going to rewind to earliest memory of my life. It is coated with layers of haze and fog, so few details may not be found in my story. But based on the flashes in my head and stories I have heard, here is a memory when I was three years old or even younger.

I have always been a person who liked privacy. So I like to keep the door to my room closed. Along with that I am a quiet person. My mom says, as a child I will be in my own world quietly playing with whatever I find. Sometimes even lids of boxes used to amuse me.

So being a private and silent person, the three year old (or younger) me dashed to my room and with the same forced closed the door and started playing with my mom's dupatta.

Obviously at one point I would wanna go out of my room. Now here comes the problem, I tried opening the door but it was jammed. Another trouble for little Chaaru was that her speech was not developed completely. I depended upon my action skills to convey my thoughts (I have done a lot of mischief with it).

So I resorted to banging the door and calling out to my mother (I could form few words don't worry). I guess my mom was in the kitchen and couldn't hear the noise. This is the part that turns hazy. I don't know how my family found out I was locked inside the room and I don't know how long I was stuck inside.

My mom's first instinct was to calm me down and assure me. So she opened the window to my room and passed mini gems chocolates to me. The window was huge but unfortunately grilled so no way of pulling me out.

The neighboors came hearing all the noise. We weren't in a flat. Our house was on the 1st floor. The living room, my room and another room were all connected with open verandah. So the voices could clearly go to my neighbors. And from that verandah my mom was passing the gems.

Finally after sometime a mechanic came. I am not sure what was the fault with the door, it couldn't be opened from the outside. So they had to take an alternative route. Above my door was a rectangular space with fancy designed grill and glass on one side.

The next information I received was the glass had to be broken, the grill had to be removed and a person will come inside the room and teleport me through that rectangular space outside. So my mother ordered me to go to the farthest end of the room so that the glass pieces won't hurt me when they are broken. I did as I was instructed and the mechanic guy broke the glass, removed the grill, somehow fit through that space and came inside my room.

Next I was safely carried through the rectangular space outside to my mother. The guy then fixed the lock and opened the door.

For quite some time in my life, I think till the age of seven I was afraid of locking doors. I overcame the fear slowly and now I am no more afraid of locks or doors.

So that's as far as I can remember. I can still visualise my room, the commotion outside, my mom giving me gems through the window, quite well even after seventeen years.

This is the earliest memory I have of my life.

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