I have one of my Childhood picture frames hung beside the electric bell and another a painting of me made by Desmond when he was an apprentice at the painter’s workshop, this he decides to place close to the sitting room window for reasons best known to him.
To every visitor that comes our home, this is the setting-pictures, picture frames, paintings and at a point the old or faded is replaced by the new.
Has anyone ever sat staring at a childhood picture, one that was hung a longtime in the living room?
Looking across the room, pushing back the hands of the clock, when the only sound we hear is the tick tock of the clock.
After all, the rooms have grown bigger and the living room is now a huge hall, this is what happens when home becomes “the family house.” Everyone live now in his own little world where outsiders do not fit in perfectly, but we were once linked up forming a mesh by love.
Humans linked up with love, that is not all a childhood picture reminds us, we are reminded of our lost innocency. It started when each day in JSS1 we got our new pen stolen and we swear stealing others’. Though we stopped, could we tame the vengeful monster that was breed by hatred? And now, the world seem there are Aliens on the look out for us.
The abode of peace where we find solace, exactly what mothers’ breast has always been, from a crawling child to the day our feet stood firm on the ground, Mother is the hero. …But the day I saw Mother cry, from life I learnt that “Mother too has pain, pain she would not mention.”
Then religion comes knocking, telling us about the being who shoulders all worries and has no pain the way mother does.
…But the world would not leave us, it keeps dragging us to follow its ways…on the search for solace we got a conscience that trembles at the mention of hell, a half heart that wants to knee forever before the pulpit and another that wants to follow the drag.
Is this not the same place we go to, with our cross made from palm fronds on palm Sundays and we live with no fear of hell or demons, where we hop into our parents’ cars to and we wave to our friends even those who did not see us just for the fun of it.
After this colourful Sunday comes Monday. School was the best thing that would ever happen. Countless playmates and break time. Who cares about the question of dream, purpose or life hurdles? Though Math class feels terrible but the playground eat up the stress.
Aside the old picture, kids returning from school with their lunch boxes in hand and their backpack will remind us of childhood.
Few times in our lives we would like to sit on the clock hand, we would feel like rolling it back to the days we would never sit on the bed edge to brood, it is called night reflections sitting on the bed edge or we might choose the door step where the Moon, the Stars and occasional meteor flashes are our friends. Back to the days where our only pain was being given a little meat or getting no toy for Xmas. When we would not think about New Year resolutions and how unachievable they might seem.