A breezer story.

She sat in a corner and watched the others.She had a lot on her mind. She did not want to be there but somehow she was here and she looked at the people swarming around her.
One of the boys was strumming a guitar and the rest of the lot sang along loudly and a little out of tune, having guzzled quite a few bottles of beer. They were playing a Bryan Adams song when he walked in.
Her heart stopped for a moment. Was it really him or? She absentmindedly stroked her drink. A bottle of her favourite flavour of breezer. Jamaican Passion. She hoped he could not see her so that she could watch him for a little while. It was him alright. A ghost from her past. And her thoughts drifted to the night she first set eyes on him.

All of sixteen and ready to take on the world, she was at a birthday party and dancing with her girl friends when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She turned to face a lanky young man, hair falling over his beautiful eyes, an honest face smiling at her.
She blushed and didn't know whether to be angry or flattered. The stranger was asking her for a dance. She could feel all eyes on her.
Feeling confused, she laughed self consciously and walked away from the dance floor.
He followed her to her corner, all eyes following the developments. "You'd better leave me alone" "Just one dance" "No. I don't think so. I don't dance with strangers" "One song. No more."
Suddenly it felt too warm and constricting, so she stepped outside. The thump of the music fading. The air was crisp and cold.  She shivered and hugged herself, looking up at the clear night skies and the stars shining down. She felt a heavier coat on her shoulders. It was him, throwing his coat around her. His perfume filled her head and she could feel her cheeks burning again.
"Hi, I am Ian and I hope we can be friends." He held out a bottle to her. "I don't drink." "You could try this. Pretty light and nice. Perfect for a gem like you. My sister loves it."
"Just because your sister likes it doesn't mean I will like it too." He smiled.
"I bet you will like it too." He smiled. She took the bottle and looked at it. Breezer. Jamaican passion. The label said. "Here, let me open it for you."
Tentatively, she took a sip. She wanted to disagree with him and say she did not like it, but it was really good. "How is it?"
"Not too bad, I have to confess. Reminds me of the passion fruit juice my grandma used to make in the summers. Crisp, fragrant and sparklingly tasty."
"Good. My sister was right. You are very pretty." "Oh! Right and who is this sister of yours?" He gave her an enigmatic smile.
Slightly irritated, she hurriedly finished off her first drink feeling the piercing gaze of the handsome stranger.
She chided herself thinking about how she had just had her first alcoholic beverage with a stranger, no matter how handsome and felt foolish.
"There you are!" said a familiar voice. She turned to find her best friend, Jane smiling at her. "Oh! So you have met?"
And then it dawned on her, the handsome stranger was Jane's older brother who had been away at university and had just come home after graduating.
"Oh my gosh! Why didn't you tell me so?" "And spoil the surprise?" "I nearly made a fool of myself"
"Don't worry, you are in safe hands." His eyes were twinkling as he laughingly shook her hands formally.
"You have grown a lot." She blushed even deeper. "Oh stop it, you old man" said  sweet Jane. "So now, what about a dance now that I have established that I am not a stranger?"
She felt very grown up and beautiful as she danced with Ian. He was so handsome and gentlemanly. A few dances later and some more breezers, they were ready to head out of the party.

Jane called her the next day. "Ian wants to take us driving in his new car for a picnic." "Don't forget to pick up some breezers."
She blurted out and Jane was laughing and saying "We have a new breezer fan" as she cut off the call.
It was magic as she drove shotgun in Ian's new car, a sleek electric blue i20 and picnicked under the blue skies of Shillong in the green glades.
He seemed to draw her out like a magnet and yet he kept a slight distance unlike the night at the dance. She felt out of sorts by the end of the day. But as he drove her home, under the watchful eyes of Jane, he planted a soft but chaste goodnight kiss on her forehead. She could not face her best friend and ran in red-faced but whooping with joy.

Two first loves. A breezer and wonderful Ian. Who knew a bottle could open up so many memories?
It had all started with a bottle of Jamaican passion.

Jane was ecstatic with the developments. Her best friend and her dear brother, together. Wow. They went on many picnics and long drives with many a breezer in tow. But time can do so much and things went awry in some time. Ian got a job out of town and the distance finally did them in. Neither of them knew what really went wrong but they hadn't seen each other in years.

Tonight, when she saw him walk in to the room, it was as if fate was giving her a second chance. She walked up to him and gently tapped him on his shoulder. He turned around, and as recognition dawned on his face, he smiled. His next words told her that everything would be alright again between them. "Should I get you a Jamaican Passion?"

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I remember

Azi, mother and me: in front of mother's house, my birthplace,
Thüvopisü village, Phek District, Nagaland

I fondly recall a poem we used to read in school. It is "I remember, I remember" by Thomas Hood.

And revisiting my birthplace after almost two decades last week brought such strong feelings of nostalgia that I had to look it up again.

When I stopped at my mother's house,(now occupied by some other family for the last twenty five plus years) tears just fell from my eyes.

I was very young when we used to live there so I don't really remember everything but I have vague memories of standing on the balcony, watching the lights of Kohima town and singing nursery rhymes my mother taught me. Sometimes I used to call out to my father to return home it seems, for those days he was posted in Kohima. 

I remember having picnics with my nanny on the lawns of the Government school where my mother taught. I remember the little marked grave downstairs where my poor dead sister lay. Mother kept flowers and swept it clean every morning. I remember  running up and down the stairs and my nanny chasing after me, making sure I didn't fall and hurt myself. I remember leaving home and moving to our new home in Kohima. We travelled by night and the journey seemed endless. By then I had another sister for company and mother says we were a noisy lot but always happy. I remember going for walks with mother and dad, me on my father's shoulder. I remember the clipped hedges surrounding government quarters and rock pavements winding through houses around Kohima's Bayavu colony. And in summers, climbing peach trees and catching butterflies with my cousins. I remember spending a season with father while in kindergarten and learning to cook pumpkins and squash. I remember playing big sister to my little cousins and running errands for my older cousins. But most of all, I remember being a happy child, picking fallen cherries in my neighbor's yard and dressing up in my mother's dresses and dancing to the tune of ABBA's dancing queen. Those are the memories I cherish from my childhood.

"I remember, I remember 

The house where I was born, 

The little window where the sun 

Came peeping in at morn; 

He never came a wink too soon, 

Nor brought too long a day; 

But now, I often wish the night 

Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember 

The roses, red and white, 

The violets, and the lily-cups,

-- Those flowers made of light! 

The lilacs where the robin built, 

And where my brother set 

The laburnum on his birthday

,-- The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember 

Where I was used to swing, 

And thought the air must rush as fresh 

To swallows on the wing; 

My spirit flew in feathers then, 

That is so heavy now,

And summer pool could hardly cool 

The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember 

The fir-trees dark and high; 

I used to think their slender tops 

Were close against the sky. 

It was a childish ignorance, 

But now 'tis little joy 

To know I'm farther off from heaven 

Than when I was a boy (girl)."

-Thomas Hood

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