There used to be a phase in my life when I was inseparable from a Teddy bear that my mom got me from London (1989) and a Racoon that my mom got me from Singapore (1992).People at home used to generally be on the lookout for the teddy bear and/or racoon. Why? Because, while in desperate pursuit of me, there was a joyous moment in spotting these creatures, as it would mean grabbing me in a matter of seconds.I blame it all on these extensions of me for getting me caught for all my mischief. Despite being clear to hide myself, I used to be extremely generous in displaying my cuddly companions which used to invariably get me caught. Very comfortably seated right in the middle, under the bed, I used to be in my own wonderland. Except, in  momentary excitement the tail of the racoon usually somehow managed to give a peek to the outside world.

Oh crap! Is that my mom’s face staring into me? Oops, is she getting closer to me? I bury my face in the palms of both hands and fervently hope that would miraculously make me invisible. Stupid (yet, cute) kid! A hand reaches for me under the bed and rests on my ears. Ouch! She drags me from under the bed by my ears; hugs me, smothers me in kisses and now comes the rough part, which is quite petrifying for the kid in me – I’m instructed to diligently gulp down my milk. YUCK! I hated it – bournvita / complan / horlicks / plain milk. But the bear hug and kisses from my mom made me turn to pulp. I swiftly used to order my taste buds to take a walk and down the whole crap! To this day, whenever I see people gulping down milk, my facial expression turns to one of revulsion as though on autopilot. Milk in coffee and tea is great, otherwise nothing has changed.

I miss my teddy bear and racoon as well as their bear-hugs so much! More so in London than ever before.