My childhood memories

My childhood memories

'The days were not in my golden cage'

'Those are my colorful days.'

The fact that life is so sweet, that the world is so beautiful cannot be understood without seeing it with the eyes of a single child. I have seen everything beautiful, happy in life, peeking out of the window of childhood. Because I was born with an innate tendency to be fascinated, I was amazed at what I saw. Jonak - the burning night, the chad on the head of the bamboo garden, the gusts of wind in the evergreen leaves of the coconut, the swarani-duarani in the fairy tale, the sorrow of the princess of Patalpuri are all colored in the pages of childhood memories. Life goes on, I grow up, but I stop when I think back to those days of my childhood. My heart breaks and I cry. I will never forget the colorful balloons left on my childhood playground. Memories of the afternoon flying kites. My childhood was spent in the village of Kaisha. My father worked in the city. At home, our house was full of grandmothers, uncles, aunts, cousins ​​and relatives. The village house was shaded by mango, blackberry, jackfruit, coconut and betel trees. I was loved by everyone in the family. In particular, my grandmother used to caress me very much. Every night he would put me to sleep telling fairy tales. And thinking that story was real, I would fall asleep with a fan in my imagination, a victorious prince. Riding on the neck of Pankhiraj, I am running in that dream in that wonderful country with a sword tied around my waist. My grandmother was very affectionate, sweet-spoken and very dear to me. I don't remember anything until I was four years old. At the age of five, I was admitted to a local school. My mother used to teach me to write the alphabet. When my father came home from the city, he used to bring me six gifts. Pen boxes, school bags, colored pencils. How happy I would be to receive those gifts! That joy cannot be expressed in words. Our school was near the house. We used to go to school together. School from home was not very expensive. It is difficult to go to school on foot. The way to school became diverse in summer, rainy season, winter. It was a sight to behold when the old office bell rang on the brass bell hanging on the long verandah of the school. The railway line has passed by the school. In the afternoon, the train would leave with a loud whistle. How many curious strangers could be seen in the window of the train. The sound of the train still ringing in my ears. Sometimes in the afternoon we would go for a walk on the railway line. Lots of plum trees on both sides of the railway line. We ate ripe plums. In the afternoon, the boys of the neighborhood used to play football on the school field. It is hidden in absolute care. My various collections. Our old radio, my father's old watch, a nice pilot pen, a record player. Now there is no such thing. But as soon as I opened the box and took them out, the memories of the old days came out. As a child, I used to leave the playground at the village house and the village school house. Those dreamy, happy memories, sweet days resonate in the pages of the mind again and again. The bigger I get, the more I face the harsh reality. It seems that I was not happy in my childhood! Who will give me back those days!