Thursday, May 27, 2004

Everyone I've ever asked about this has memories of their childhood. I, on the other hand, have no real recollection of life before puberty, it seems. My parents regale friends and relatives with stories about the strange things I got upto while growing up and the bizarre things I said, nicknames I bestowed upon aunts and the like, but I have no recollection of any of it. The closest I can come to explaining it is that it seems as if conscious thought began for me at 16 and before that, I was... without thought. I remember certain incidents: a teacher telling my mum my notes are always incomplete because I copy too slowly from the board, my math teacher consoling me in the third grade after I burst into tears of frustration at my complete inability to solve simple sums, playing hopscotch with friends, watching people around me auditioning for the school play, getting into trouble with my best friend (whose aunt, incidentally was the head of the secondary section at my school) and running in terror from my 'pet' dog. These incidents seem like memories of a television show: incidents I saw but did not feel, and I most certainly don't remember what I was thinking or feeling during these incidents. Detached memories, if that makes any sense.

Misha at Thursday, May 27, 2004

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