You know when you first start actually feeling like you’re experiencing life for the first time, being able to remember all your family member’s names and feel so familiar with your surroundings. I experienced this at three years old, but that’s not what I remember being my first ever memory. At this time, I remembered the most comforting, fun, and nostalgic memories of being in my family’s home, in a state in India called Punjab. This is my very first and vivid memory I had ever remembered.
I was two and a half years old, watching Dora on the plane, totally unaware of where we’re headed. Never would I have imagined that I’d be feeling such warmth in a place that I can call my second home.
“You were so happy seeing your grandparents, your aunt, and Rocky,” my mom mentions.
This little guy “Rocky” was definitely little along with being such a cute and big, fluffy dog that was absolutely adorable, and such a joy to be around. I cherished him greatly and will always remember him even if he is no longer with us. A dog’s big passionate smile while panting with their tongue out can’t really ever be forgotten, especially Rocky’s big, slobbery smile.
I remember fragments from my memories of jumping into my grandparent’s lap, petting Rocky on the head, and my aunts and uncles absolutely adoring me. But what I remember most, which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, is riding on my uncle’s motorcycle. Punjab is notorious for having people riding scooters on its roads since those are essentially easier to navigate on the unpredictable roads.
My uncle had saved up to buy a nice and luxurious, silver motorcycle that definitely does not compare to the scooters in India. No matter where he went, he was on that motorcycle driving wherever he needed to get to (along with 4-5 other people, but we don’t have to talk about that!). Seeing this as a child was like seeing the coolest invention ever that literally looked like my toys from home but tripled its size. Riding on that motorcycle felt so exhilarating to say the least, feeling the wind hit you in the face as a child was the most excitement I experienced for the first time in my life (quite literally as a two year old). I was just a little bean sitting in front of my uncle acting like it was my hands that controlled where we were headed, I felt like I was on top of the world.
Even if I was riding on that motorcycle with maybe five other people, it honestly felt like it was just me and the road. I would do quite literally anything to go back and experience this once again in my lifetime, but who knows where that motorcycle is now and if my uncle with two children will ever have the time to do such stunts again.
Since I recently returned from Punjab after not having visited in thirteen years, this memory became such a longing memory that I hope I never forget. I definitely did ride on a scooter in India, but it just won’t ever feel the same as it did when I was a child along with my uncle. Also, my brother argued with my mom to let him go in the front seat of the motorcycle instead of me. (I rode in the back at that time and was hanging on for dear life.) Nonetheless, it’ll be a feeling I’ll remember forever that occurred in a time where I was the happiest I could be with the amount of joy radiating from my loved ones and from myself included.
