Chatter Box

Chatter box
I was labelled a chatterbox by my family when I was six or seven. I was talkative and had endless questions about everything and everybody. In fact, if I were quiet for even ten minutes, everyone in the household would ask if I was feeling alright. I found patient listeners in my mom and also in my caretaker. Today, as a mother of two, I wholeheartedly appreciate the patience they had shown me. My mother would sometimes try to quieten me down by playing a song on the gramophone or by engaging me in some games, but no amount of distraction would be strong enough to prevent me from giving up my non-stop babble for more than ten minutes.
Mom worked as a teacher, and once she was home from work in the evening, I would stop whatever I was doing and follow her and recite the day's doings to her. I would then ask her about her day at work. She would think over and tell me in simple words how she had spent her day.
During vacations, I would ask my mom about her childhood, about my grandparents, and her brothers. She would tell me about them, and I would listen with wide-eyed interest. We would pore over the albums that had their pictures and pictures of other relatives. I would then ask about the occasion when the pictures had been taken and the names of each and everybody present in the picture. I would ask her about the clothes she wore as a young girl, the games she played as a kid, and this would come in handy when my friends and I would wish to play a new game. I would ask her about the games boys and girls of her age played when she was a kid.
I was curious about the school she had attended, her home, her friends, the town she was brought up in, etc. I asked her about the subjects taught in her school and her favourite subject. I wanted a clear picture of my mother as a little girl. I used to ask her about what irritated her parents. I would ask her if she played pranks or not. I loved to imagine the way my mother's life was when she was a child.
My caretaker was a lady older than my mother, and whenever I got a chance, I used to pose similar questions to her as well. I used to mentally compare the way she and my mother lived during their childhood. I then used to narrate to my mother whatever I had learnt. My pre-teen days were sans TV, and so conversation used to flow. I used to gather news from the neighbourhood and share it with the members of the household. Sometimes when the adults were busy, they would dismiss me with the 'Not now, chatterbox' comment. I would give up my pestering for half an hour or so and begin once I felt I had kept quiet for a long time.
I was a talkative student in the class as well and had been called out by the teachers on several occasions. My name would appear regularly on the blackboard for being talkative. As years went by, I grew a lot quieter and would spend more time listening. My in-laws and their extended families also talk a lot, and I have been told on more occasions than one that I am a quiet person. This was news to my family members and me! My older kid was quite a chatterbox as a child, and his talkative nature reminded me of my childhood days, and I feel the legacy of chatting has been passed on to the next generation.