When I was little, my older sister spun wondrous tales that captured my imagination and transported me to a fairy-tale land.
There was a room in the bungalow where we stayed which was simply called the box room. It was a required space for all the tin trunks and boxes accumulated over the years which helped us move from place to place in our relatively nomadic existence.
Since it wasn’t really used other than for storage, it was not frequented often. Perhaps that is why it was the perfect staging ground for vicarious adventures.
One lazy summer afternoon, I was told a tale that made my eyes widen with disbelief and my jaw drop. My sister told me a secret that she said she hadn’t told anyone else. But first I had to swear that I would never repeat what I was going to be told.
I couldn’t believe my ears. I was the chosen one! Of all the siblings, she had decided I was the only one she could trust with her revelation. What I didn’t know then was that she was a past master at deception.
OK, I will admit it was too good to be true but, dear reader, you must remember I was still wet behind the ears. And there was the thrill of being recognised as a worthy conspirator. Who wouldn’t feel flattered?
So, she took me to that room and closed the door. There was something eerie about the dim room where the stored objects cast strange shadows. I asked if she could switch on the light, but she vehemently vetoed the suggestion. I had to rely on the dim sunlight streaking through a window to see her face and the myriad expressions that flitted across as the raconteur began her act.
In a hushed voice, she began her story which I will never forget. I was mesmerised by what she had to say.
Like Alice in Wonderland, she had tripped into a hole and fallen underground. Winded for a while, she lay there on the grass trying to gather herself when she suddenly became aware of her surroundings. There were fruit trees all around laden with their sweet offerings. A few yards away was a tree with an assortment of candy hanging from its low branches. As she rubbed her eyes to see if this were a dream, she felt something nuzzling her hand. There, right beside her, was a lion, whose demeanour was not unlike that of our family dog. She soon realised she was the only human being in this paradise. She could make out a variety of animals who seemed as docile as the lion. Somehow she found she could speak their language. When I interrupted by asking her to say a few words in that lingo, a stern look was directed at me with the warning that if I didn’t want to hear the story, she would stop right there. But I was sucked right into the vortex of her imagination. Apologising for stopping her in mid-flow, I also learnt that she was proclaimed queen of this magical land.
Filled with an envy so strong I could almost taste it, I begged her to take me to her kingdom. But she was a person of her word. No one but she was allowed into that world. So, as the months passed and she spun tales more outrageous than the last, I continued to be bewitched.
In case you are laughing at my gullibility, I must remind you that I am much wiser and less trusting now. Why, just the other day I received a call from a person saying he was from etisalat and that I had won a huge prize. I soon saw through him and told him to keep the money. So, who’s the gull?
