Bubbles

I don't know about you but I grew up surrounded by bubbles. Not literally, but what I mean is that bubbles played a big part of my childhood. I loved bubbles. They were always so exciting and fun to make, and every so often in the shower with body soap I still blow a few using my hands.

Naturally, my brother had a similar childhood as well (as do many other kids who seem to be endlessly enchanted by the magic of bubbles) and he eagerly told me he had been waiting for a while to use these 'Billion Bubbles' toy with me for ages. With exams over, we went to the local park for some bubble fun; naturally I packed my camera.

There's something about having a younger sibling that keeps me young at heart. Not to say that having an older sibling or being an only child doesn't have its own perks, but my brother (who is a great deal younger than me -- enough to sometimes be mistaken as my son) definitely brings out a side of me that no one else can manage to.

I found myself spinning in dozens of circles with bubbles spewing everywhere around me, laughing in drunken dizziness. Needless to say, I hadn't done that in a long, long time.

Taken with self-timer, with the camera set on a park bench.

Do we ever 'grow up'? I don't know the answer to that. But what I do know is that despite this year being the last of my teenage years, and adulthood looming in the not-too-distant-future, my childhood seems far closer to my heart than I would think. Yes, perhaps I am older and dealing with jobs, and finding myself, and developing my 'adult-life', but I like to think that this doesn't have to retract my experience of being a 'kid'.

Having a younger brother gives me an excuse to be childish. It allows me to grab the bubble-blower and spin around till I drop (quite literally), without any fears of judgement or feeling ridiculous. I feel like deep down this side of me still remains -- that silly, childish side of me that sometimes still pokes its head out in certain moments with friends or family. 

Also, as a side effect, I realised at this park how important it is to be a role model to my brother (and to any young child around you). Learning about childhood development in my medicine degree has made me realise the true significance of being a good role model, and the vast amount of information that a child absorbs from the people around them. When I saw some neighbours walking around the park, I couldn't help but pause in my tracks and whisper "Oh no, they're going to see us and judge us..." to which I immediately realised the implications of. Without so much as a hesitation I continued with "But that doesn't matter; we'll keep blowing bubbles" because 'fearing other people's judgements and limiting your own happiness as a result of this fear' is not a message I wish to broadcast to my younger brother. One side-effect of having a younger sibling and taking care of them almost as a mother would is I have become more observant and aware of my own actions and behaviours. Every single thing I do is a message that can be mirrored in a child, and if I don't want to see that child develop those same habits or poor mentalities then the first step is to iron them out of my own mind.

But, most of all, I really enjoyed the park fun.

I like to think that as I grow older and the years accumulate that I never lose sight of this part of myself. Being childish is not something I consider restricted to young children. Although I often say that I feel like my age is in the early-twenties, I must admit that in certain moments I feel like I'm still ten. 

I'm not saying you have to be childish to have fun. Different people have different definitions of what is 'fun' for them. But what I came to realise was that 'fun' should not be characterised or limited to something that is only found in 'childhood', i.e., limited to those under the age of, let's say, eighteen. And, more to say, is the importance of the people around you. It can be hard to be self-aware of the way you act and how you behave. Only recently did I realise the side of me that my brother brings out.

And might I just add that I'm very glad ten-year-old Manjekah is still alive and kicking.