I love this photo. It's all about good memories. The clothes I'm wearing (me, the squirt in the red tartan catsuit, no less) the people I'm with (older girls- ooh! but especially big sister in paisley pants and awesome hair sitting NEXT to me), the house I'm in (neighbours up the road who had a large, rambling house) and what we were tucking into (probably some sugary gulab jamuns, bubur cha-cha, or ice-cream).
We lived in Reservoir Road, and there were just three houses on the street. The rest of the sleepy road passed St. Thomas's school, wound up a hill past a reservoir, and hugged the edge of our local botanical gardens in which sat the Queen Anne style anthropological museum building, a little aquarium, a pretty bandstand, jacarandas trees, and endless beds of canna lillies.
The three houses in our street were all rambling, with large gardens, perfect for small people who had big adventures to play out. We kids were always in each others homes. We had important opinions, and school gossip, we built tents, made stages and sang the latest pop songs into hairbrushes, we had art shows and fashion shows, played dress ups and had elaborate treasure hunts.
This picture was taken at a party at our neighbours' place on the hill and I remember it being the most exciting place to visit because just imagine this! Every now and again, I would go dashing in to their place and find an orphaned baby honey bear being nursed at the kitchen table, or an orang utan would be being walked around the garden, half a papaya in hand for a snack. When I had word that an animal was in residence, I would finish lunch and homework in record time before scooting up the hill to play.