Little Artist, big imagination

 

I have loved drawing ever since I was a little child. One of my earliest and most repeated drawings, starting from when I was just three years old, was a simple landscape—a cozy house, a tree on one side, a big flower, mountains in the background, and the sun peeking from one corner of the sky, surrounded by fluffy clouds.

The second picture I often drew was of an airplane. It was a simple sketch with a door, lots of windows, two wings, and a little compartment at the back. Every time my parents or family friends saw it, they would ask me what that back part was. I would sweetly say, “That’s the bathroom!” They would laugh and smile at how innocently serious I was.

I had this funny little habit—wherever we went, whether it was the airport, a shopping mall, or someone’s house—I always wanted to use the bathroom. When I was around six or seven, I shared a little dream with my mom, “I wish there was a suitcase bathroom. We could carry it with us, and whenever we needed it, it would turn into a bathroom. Then, after using it, we could fold it back into a suitcase.”

Looking back, it’s such a silly idea—but so full of childhood imagination and innocence.

 

The Day English found me…

I was sent to preschool when I was about 3 and half, without knowing a word of English. I don’t remember everything clearly, but some moments still stay with me. 

That morning, my mom woke me up early, dressed me, and gently forced me to drink milk before sending me off in a school bus that stopped right in front of our apartment building. Everything felt so new and unfamiliar.

As the bus drove through a few turns and a roundabout, I felt sick and ended up throwing up. I was so embarrassed and didn’t know what to do. When I reached school, the teachers asked me something in English—but I couldn’t understand a word. I tried to explain in Malayalam, but they didn’t understand either. I remember they were North Indian teachers.

They were kind, though. They cleaned me up and sprayed a floral scent on me. Preschool hours were short—just four hours—and soon I was back home, telling my mom everything that had happened. That night, I remember her sharing the story with my dad, and together they taught me a few simple English words I would need every day.

I wasn’t even four, but that day stayed with me. It’s been almost 37 years, and I still remember it so clearly.

Creatures of Kerala: a childhood fear

“We are going to India this vacation,” said Dad, and the 5-year-old me couldn’t contain the excitement! Back then, traveling from the Middle East to India was a huge deal. From the moment we arrived, my family treated me like royalty. The greenery, the smell of the soil, the rain and the flowers brought so much joy and nostalgia, things we missed in the Middle East. But what I dreaded were the bugs, spiders, moths, millipedes, centipedes, dragonflies, grasshoppers, and every other creepy-crawly creature that seemed to be everywhere! 

The big, scary spiders and their webs, especially in the bathrooms of Kerala, terrified me. I would think, “Oh no!” and admit that I’m still afraid of them. There were times I even avoided the toilet because of my fear of spiders.

When someone asked if I liked Kerala, I would say, “Yes, but not the creatures there!” The adults would laugh at my silly answer. Some of my cousins would ask curiously, “Are there no creatures in Dubai?”

I would respond, “No. There are just big cockroaches in some apartments, but not in our house. My mom has killed them all with a magical sugary ball she makes.”

They would stare at me, as if I were an alien from another planet.

These creatures were my worst nightmare.

I never liked going to the zoo or having pets. When asked if I wanted a pet, my answer was always a firm “No,” and I would say, “I would rather have a soft, fluffy teddy bear!”

As the years passed, my fear only grew stronger.