Growing up as a kid, I have been a voracious reader of adventure and mystery books; particularly of those authored by Enid Blyton. Her writings have the capacity to teleport the reader into the story scene; making oneself a part of the adventure that is magically weaved.
I clearly remember this particular book, Hollow Tree House, which after devouring the literary adventure, left me craving to build and start living in a tree and have my own real adventure. And so during the summer holidays, I set out searching for one such huge tree with a hollow trunk amidst the hills at my mother’s village home. Sadly, I couldn’t find any tree hollow which would accommodate a whole grown child! And disappointed with no findings, I convinced my best friend to build a tree house together atop an old bent drumstick tree standing solely in her backyard. And so we did build one with strewn wooden planks and old pieces of rags. Well, at least we could sit safely, eat and chat (without falling off) if not live completely in the tree house as I wished to. It became our club house or adda where we planned our future mischief, until one day the neighbours alarmed us off citing that – ‘a drumstick tree is one among the weak trees’. And that was the end of the rickety tree house stay!
Well, there are many such instances and memories where I have longed for adventures and ate, drank and dreamt of living an adventure. At the age of 9 as I recall, I had designed a book which had a list of essentials when on an adventure or when erm.. lost – it included rope, matches, pocket knife, biscuits, and other such stuff that I don’t remember now. Secretly, I always had a backup kept aside with this gear. I kept reminding myself I need to be prepared, an adventure might drop by anytime anywhere! I even had a theme song written where I recall only the chorus lines:
“Adventure, Adventure in my eyes,
Go on, go on..” – (2)
Another, popular and loved book series was the Famous Five, where the book Five Go to Mystery Moor had me on my toes, completely engrossed giving me goosebumps when the five children were stuck on the misty moor. This story left me thinking; I should head out one night with my backpack to the hillside close to the village that I lived which is kind of a moor and have my own wild escapade. Nevertheless, as destiny had it, that night never happened.
Now I think and chuckle at those days, where I was so desperate to escape reality and the mundane life. And as years slipped by, I understood that Life itself is an Adventure; with all its twists and turns and surprises. And the gear that one needs on this fateful adventure is Hope, Courage and Love. As Eleanor Roosevelt truly says – “Life is what you make it. Always has been, always will be.”