Childhood Memories

The sense of smell sets off a web of memories.

Whether it be the scent of fresh snow, smell of old books, aroma of a cookie, smell of earth after rain, smell of flowers, a waft of summer breeze or smell of wood shavings.

The smell of summer breeze makes you nostalgic and memories surface: there is a commotion outside the home, you and your brothers standing near the gate. Baraf Pani, Pakran Pakrai, among the childhood games.

The sense of smell sets off a web of memories.

Your childhood buddies with hands resting on their waist, waiting for the show to begin. They’ve personified themselves as their favorite politician. Benazir, Nawaz Sharif and Ghulam Ishaq Khan. You’re bicycling on the street. No fear of strangers. Someone plucks flower from your garden and upon inquiry yells at you that her father will ask you about this accusation. Now, you think it’s just a childhood naivety.

You remember that your feral cat brings a gift for you. A mouse. She brings it daily to relish her feast and a feast for the eyes. You wash that area again and again to remove stains of blood.

Those memories still reverberate in your mind.

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