My Childhood Memories

Change is a superbly captivating word, but changing is somehow, somewhere a melancholy lies. So wherever I think of the changing days of my life from childhood to adulthood I feel sad. My childhood days were very sweet and a magical period of my life. I guess it was time when I was easily satisfied and elated. I remember that small gifts like chocolates, Ice cream etc, could send me to the height of glory and ecstasy. So my childhood memories are the memories of the blissful of my life.

Above all, I remember the warm love of parents, how they wanted to save me from all the dark sides of life. I wish I could always have been sheltered by them. They still love me but I cannot ching to them as before. I remember how we played together and the comfort of running into their arms. Perhaps now I have shed the trailing clouds of glory from heaven.

During vacations we used to go to our village home. There I run in the green paddy fields like a free bird and swam in the water joyously. We used to stay in a big house with all my cousins where the days passed like dreams and nights like weddings. I remember the glorious pictures of the famous musical mentors like Abbas Uddin Ahmed, Kazi Nazrul Islam, Angur Bala Devi and many more hanging in my grandma's living room.

I was about five and a half years old when I was admitted into a school. I don't know why children cry terribly when they go to school. In my case, I was very happy thinking of going to a new place which awaited with a whole a lot of new friends. But unfortunately, I failed to make any friends on the very first day as every on was crying. However, I was sitting happily wearing a new dress, with new shoes and in my hands were my new bag ans books, looking with fascination at the pretty class teacher.

It is still imprinted deeply in my mind. Very early in the morning my mother called me. She told me thet she going to take me to the Central Shaheed Minar where the brave Bangali sons had sacrificed their lives to save their mother tongue-Bangali. It was still dark, but the roads were full of people walking barefooted like us. When we reached the Central Shaheed Minar I was a sea of solman faces. We managed to reach the foot of the Minar and place our flowers there in homage to our martyrs. The sweet, sad notes of the 'Ekusher Gan' still ring in my ears.

Change is inevitable. The caterpillar turns into a butterfly, the rivulets meet the ocean. So life is dynamic and racing towards bigger and newer avenues. Though I feel sad as I have lost my childhood, I feel happy as I think that they have laid the foundation. Stone of future Hope and Inspiration.