Sindbad, cassettes and Summer breaks

I remember the vacations we had in Dubai. Unlike in India, summer holidays there were in July and August…the hottest months. They only began after our first term exams. 

During the break, Mom and Dad would ask us to clean our cubbies. There wasn’t much to do apart from playing in the corridor with my one close friend who lived nearby. 

Honestly, vacations in Dubai were quite boring. We rarely went out, and for my mom, it was the busiest time of the year. She used to say that the rest of the year ran smoothly, but vacations turned everything upside down. 

One thing we all enjoyed was watching movies. This was back in the 1980s and 90s, when video cassette tapes were still around. We had a membership at a Malayali cassette shop. Every time we rented a movie, they would note the name and date in a big register. We loved rewatching old Malayalam comedy movies. The 1980s and early 90s were truly the golden years of Malayalam cinema- with unforgettable comedies and timeless classics by legends like Padmarajan and M.T. Vasudevan Nair. Back then, I wasn’t a big fan of classic films, but now I am a die-hard fan. “Thoovanathumbikal” is right at the top of my favorites list. 

My favorites in those days were the Mohanlal–Sreenivasan combo. I must have watched Nadodikkaattu at least a hundred times. And of course, movies like Kilukkam. Even now, I am a fan of those kinds of films, and I still feel they were the best.

Tom & Jerry was the best… and then Popoyee the sailor man, where the guy suddenly gets muscles as soon as he eats spinach, which was kind of yuck for me back then. But now spinach is one of my favorite veggies. 

Another fond memory is of Sindbad, an arcade zone for kids in Al Ghurair Centre. It one of the few big malls at the time. Every week, Dad and Mom would drop my brother and me there while they went for a walk. 

Back then, Channel 33 was the main TV channel before Malayalam channels and satellite TV came along. They aired Hindi movies every Thursday at 10:30 PM, and my brother and I never missed them. Fridays were weekends in the Middle East, so it was the perfect time. I also loved watching The Crystal Maze, a game show hosted by Richard O’Brien. It had teams completing challenges in different historical settings to collect time crystals. It was fascinating! 

But the best part of vacation? Not having to wake up early in the morning.

The crunch I still remember

In my childhood memories, there’s a bakery van that still brings a smile to my face. It used to park on the side of the road, across from a row of shops in Ghusais. This was sometime in the late 1980s though I must have been just four or five years old then.

The van was white, with the bakery’s name printed on the side, though I can’t recall what it was. It only came once a week, but that one day felt special. My family and I would walk over, and inside the van were neat rows of freshly baked bread, soft buns, and my absolute favorite freshly fried potato chips.

I was always fascinated by the sight of so many delicious things inside a single van. My parents would buy fresh bread and without fail, a packet of chips each for my brother and me. The chips came in a clear packet with a picture of a smiling baker and the bakery’s name printed in both Arabic and English along with the expiry date.

Those chips were something else. They were thin, golden, perfectly crisp, and just salty enough. You could even taste the light oil they were fried in, which somehow made them even better. To this day, I have never found chips that taste quite like those. Nothing ever came close.

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.

Chappathi, fish curry & Laughter

 Selena Aunty was another amazing cook I know. Her signature dishes were chapathi and fish curry, and my all-time favorite - her special chicken biryani. The aroma of that biryani, which she made every year for Eid, still makes my mouth water. With all the spices, pineapple pieces, and its delectable look, it’s unforgettable.

But there’s a story behind the chapathi and fish curry. Every time I went to her house, Aunty would prepare her special fish curry and chapathi for me. I was a very slow eater, and I would sit in front of the food for hours, which showed how patient my poor mom had to be.

One evening, I was at Selena Aunty’s house in GhusaisSheikh Colony. As usual, I was tearing my chapathi into tiny pieces and dipping it into the fish curry. The apartment door was open because Hijas was playing with some Arabic boys outside. They were running around the house and the corridors. Suddenly, one of the boys ran past me, snatched the chapathi from my hand, tore it in half, and stuffed it into his mouth. I was shocked and frozen. The whole thing happened in less than a minute. Selena Aunty, Moosa Uncle, and Harischettan saw it all and burst out laughing at my reaction. I started crying—not just because my chapathi was gone, but because I was embarrassed and upset that they were laughing at me. Aunty came over to console me and offered me another chapathi.

It’s been 37 years now, and none of us have forgotten that incident.

Mom’s kitchen, my memories…

 I always thought my mom was an amazing cook. I loved many of the dishes she made, especially her buttery chapathi, which was my all-time favorite. I still miss it. She also made a special chicken curry, which she called Chicken 65, and it was the best chicken I have ever had. I wonder how she made it. Losing her at 10 meant I never learned her secrets.

She also made a delicious vegetable curry with cauliflower, green peas, and potatoes, which she paired with her buttery chapathi. Sometimes, she made noodles with her own masala, long before magic masala packets existed. Those noodles were the best I have ever had, and nothing can replace them.

Her prawn fry and prawn thoran ( thoran is a dry kerala dish with grated coconut) were my favorite Friday dishes. I still remember her making spinach thoran, which my brother and I disliked. I laugh when I think of him stuffing spinach into a rice ball with pickle, just to swallow it without tasting it. But as we grow, tastes change, and today spinach thoran is one of my favorites.

Another memory is of kadala curry (black chickpea curry) and puttu (steamed cake), my all-time favorite combo. Mom used to remove the skin from each chickpea and give it to me. I have continued this habit ever since I was a toddler, and even though it takes time, I still do it. It reminds me of her and all her delicious food.