Memories...

I quietly approach the closet called mind, dig out a treasure chest, blow the dust away and open it. Out comes a plethora of memories; beautiful ones, sad ones, happy ones, funny ones. Hmmm... I think for today I'll settle for the happy ones; I sooo need them right now.
At 3:
A little girl howling away as her father tries to lure her inside the huge building of a school; treading on popcorn that had been bought as a bribe that didn't work, looking through glazed eyes, wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her tiny hands.
At 7:
A teeny tiny, crinkly baby in her mother's arms, crying at the top of his lungs. Could this ugly little blob be the brother she had been asking God for?
At 11:
Hiding under the covers with a small torch, trying to quickly finish 'The Secret Garden' which later becomes one of her all time favourite books.
At 12:
The magical sound of her mother's bangles as she makes divine parathas for the children.
At 13:
Smiling shyly as her teachers compliment her on her first published piece in the children's section of a newspaper.
At 15:
Her first crush, George Michael. So what if he wasn't straight, she didn't know at that age.
At 16:
Finally puts the dolls away. All the lovely clothes that had been prepared for the trousseau and the tiny shoes and bedlinen, all were handed down to a cousin but the dolls remained in trunk for the longest time.
At 19:
First love and fortunately or unfortunately also the last.
At 21:
Wedding! The excitement of getting loads of clothes and shoes and the unwritten permission to put on makeup whenever the heart desired.
At 24:
The arrival of a beautiful little angel with ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.
At 27:
And another one arrives with big, beautiful eyes and honey coloured hair.
At 36:
Rediscovering...
At 36:
Life ends...