Essay: The Perfect Gift by Vishakha Khetrapal

In this essay, Vishakha Khetrapal takes us on a walk down memory lane by sharing a beautiful childhood memory.

It was June 19th, 1999. The scorching Summer in Jabalpur was giving way to a cool Monsoon. But I had no respite. I was grappling with deciding what to gift Rajni for her ninth birthday. Rajni was my next-door neighbour and friend, with whom I shared the joys of my childhood. We played ghar-ghar every Sunday and every single day of our Summer holidays. Another friend, Ranu, also joined us for the fun. 

The game itself was an elaborate routine. We would sit in one of the rooms, a tiny passage rather, in my house. It would be divided into three equal sections for the three of us, with white chalk, which was plenty in my house as my mother was a teacher. The three sections symbolised an imaginary house each for Rajni, Ranu, and me. Toy utensils and dolls furnished our make-believe houses, providing the backdrop for hours of childhood bliss. 

As a child fascinated with dolls, my collection was vast. There were dolls of all shapes and sizes. I also had a bag full of doll clothes, which mummy sewed on her Usha sewing machine, using the leftover fabric from our frocks and her salwar suit. The sewing machine was a giant black beauty. Each piece was adorned with beautiful buttons and laces. My sister, more inclined towards cricket than dolls, graciously allowed me to use her share of doll clothes as long as I didn’t play the bossy elder sister.