Memoirs of another Era

Mother : Dove Beautiful Ends to your Beautiful Braids!

To the eyes of a two year me, life was rater different from what it is now. It was full of magic and everything was a kaleidoscopic in its own nature. I have no real memory but rather flashes of it, vestiges of a memorable time popping up like bubbles in a champagne glass. These are not memories that I can make any sense of but are rather distinctive and certainly not very descriptive in nature. I don’t remember all of them ( I was just a couple of years old, my brain was still finding places to keep stuff and had other serious problems like food and potty to bother about) but I do remember a few of them and of course one of them has a lot to do with braids.

When I started thinking about braids and what the to write about them, frankly I was turning blank, with the very little hair that I myself has that was no surprise. That’s when I realized that I should stop being a stupid narcissist and concentrate along another lines. I donned my thinking hat on and started thinking what thoughts braids inspire in me. One thought, rather one memory stood out of all. It was that of a two year old me, the hazy vision of the dangling braids all in sepia like in any good flashback from a beloved part of my life. I could see through the baby eyes of mine the life that was in and around me.

Dove Beautiful Ends to your Beautiful Braids!The first of the visions that I remember has my mother’s face in it, much younger and with much less wrinkles, so much younger and carefree than I ever remember her. I could faintly hear her smiles as she cajoled me. I could feel the delight in her giggles as I hung on to her braids and carried out various scientific experiments on like, biting, tasting, pulling and what not. I can remember the cries of utter delight that I let out and the immediate effect it has on my mother’s face. I remember watching the smile that reciprocate on her face, her eyes lighting up as if she was beholding something miraculous n her hands. Something that only a mother can feel for her son I guess.

Every one of my memories of my grandmother has something to do with braids. I have seen beautiful pictures of my ravishingly beautiful grandmother at my home. She had a very long braid, so beautiful were they, But that not the one that I remember. By the time I was born she had lost the blackness of her hair and her braids were no longer that strong but I can say that they would put most girls to shame. I remember I her braids, much before she lost it to old age and its ailments. It was like a silver thread, so beautiful; I can even remember seeing them shine brightly in the sunlight. The little me was so fascinated by the games her braids would play with the light, I would try chasing it, jumping on it and everything else I was capable of them.

I don’t know whether I could go on and say that braids has done a lot to my childhood, or that it played an important part in my younger years. But I can say this that though I have no braids, braids have featured in some the most cherished of my childhood memories. My memory of my mother when I was little was one the most beautiful memories that I have of my mother, a personal favorite, one among the very few where I remember her as carefree and elated. Huh! Memories sometimes that is all that we may have for ourselves. My only wish is that these memories be real and not just a product of my runaway imagination.

18 thoughts on “Memoirs of another Era

  1. It's always amazing how we remember certain things as children and others are stored away in some secret place in our brain. It's good to know that the braids were full of such beautiful memories for you (some children are full of only bad memories). It's also very nice that when you have your own grandchildren that your memories become their bedtime stories ie: how grandma's braids were beautiful and silver etc……


  2. Your post brought back some forgotten memories in me. Though very rarely now, i go back into flashback to remember what life was then, what i use to do as a kid , what my thoughts were. Years after years, layers after layers the mind registers what is new, what is only fresh. I wish i had an elephant's memory and relish more of my childhood days. That vacuum of the mind , the innocence of the soul ,the curiosity about life. I am blessed to see that life again from the eyes of my 1 year old son now.

    Tea Time Talk –


  3. Yes, their hair hand a particularly natural aroma to it, something that would come from grandma's secret magic recipes and that none has ever been so far able to mimic.


  4. Indeed you are blessed to see your son, It often happens that we relive our own childhood at the vicinity of a child and when it is your own, we enjoy it with a vengeance. 🙂


  5. Oh! Silver threads! I never thought white hair like that! Beautiful 🙂
    Great that you still remember those sweet childhood moments 🙂

    Thanks for sharing those memories Rupertt! 🙂


  6. Its my pleasure, Sri

    Yes, they where not white nor were they grey, But they were silver, so silvery. Light would bounce off them and they would glitter like diamond stands.


  7. This makes me smile as my 1 year old daughter does the same to me. She holds my back and she is so fascinated by my ponytail (I don't have long enough hair to tie into a braid). She has great fun by pulling my hair and I love to hear her giggles 🙂


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