What is the first thing you can remember so vividly? They say that our earliest memories have an extraordinary force that seems to strengthen with each reminiscence. They suggest at who we have become and indicate the feelings and attitudes that really drive us.
The heat of the sun is biting my skin and the softness of the mud seemed to balance the comfort of bending all day. The dirt smells good with the fresh breeze as it touches my face. My head was spinning with different imaginations and leisure. Every now and then I looked up at the clouds and they seemed smiling and so proud of me.
My Mom, who is brave by heart, a gambler at fault, kept telling me that “there’s nothing impossible under the heat of the sun”. I took it seriously and well, literally. It instantaneously delights me as I continue planting rice on a bright, summer day.
“So, can I tell you a story?” I asked my sister who is planting on the other side of the field. I started telling her a movie just to kill the time and not being so conscious about the sizzling heat.
When there’s nothing to tell anymore, we were silent for a while. Thoughts started building up. I promised myself to get out of the mud someday. I promised to do better than my parents.
Then, I felt so much compassion for the farmers I saw nearby. Their faces wrinkled, their hands so dirty, clothes full of mud and yet never cared eating their lunch boxes under the shades of coconut trees. They are happy people so it seemed. They whistle a lot and some even sing out loud, throwing jokes at each other which echoed throughout the fields.
I can recall so vividly, how happy I was on that day for a job well-done. I was nine then. Ah, I always liked remembering that day. It reminded me of a renewed spirit, joyful hopes and innocent longings of pure gratification.