Friday, 29 July 2016
Man is fond of turning back from the present to the past again and again. The present may be good but the past is golden. Nothing is more pleasant to him than the memories of his childhood, the memories of my childhood haunt me like a passion. Whenever I am sick of the present, I try to get relief in the past days of my childhood. A man cannot remember everything that happened in his childhood. But certain events are stored in the sub-conscious mind. They sometime peep through mind’s eye. I spent my childhood in my native village. When I was six, my father got me admitted into our village primary school where I spent four years. On the first day when I entered the school –compound with my father, the children were enjoying here and there. My mind was troubled with fear, but the warmth with which my classmates received me dispelled all my fears. My heart words put me at ease. The teachers were very helpful. From the very childhood I was extrovert. So I could easily cope with all types of situation. I have so many sweet memories in my early life. My playground was the bank of the mighty Teesta. In all the seasons this river had great attraction for me. Whenever I was not at home, I could be found on its bank. I was very fond of stealing mangoes, lichies, black berries and other fruits in the company of friends in summer. Sometimes we would forget to eat our midday meals. Another interesting memory is the village hat. The hat used to sit twice a weak near a river. I usually went there with some other children. But happy days did not last long. My father got an appointment in a town school and moved there immediately with all the members of the family. The leaving of my native village is the bitterest experience of my life. Though I am now a young, I still cherish the sweet memories of my happy childhood days spent in the charming environment of my village.