What matters most

Of all the things I adore,

And hold close to my heart.

You would make the list,

In fact you are where I start.

As a child, I was fascinated by mundane things like waking up to a songbird wondering whether it was a thrush, or the morning lark, or the mynah, singing about god's glory and everything underneath the sun. I would break up into fits of laughter when Momma tickled me silly, not knowing what was happening, and how her fingers running up and down my body could make me squeal with joy and yet revelling under her touch like a wound up doll

. I would play with a running tap of water for hours on end, splashing water on the maid and other children of the house. I could spend the whole night gazing at the stars throw my window wondering what it would be like to travel to them. And one of my favourite things was color, the presence of it in flowers, clothes and things, made me want to just play around with my box of tempera colors, coloured pencils or wax crayons. It got to a point where Momma made me clean up the whole wall after I had painted a fresco with oil pastels in the living room.

The fascination with things continued into my adolescence, in fact, it grew leaps and bounds into a full blown mania. I would spend hours in local museums marvelling at artwork and artifacts.