I remember, I remember
How my childhood fleeted by
The mirth of its December,
And the warmth of its July.
Childhood is the best period of man’s life. It is full of sweet dreams and strange wishes: Its memories always remain with us. It has its problems, but even then it is rose-coloured. Its effect on the later life is always great. A satisfied child usually proves helpful to the society in future. On the other hand, a dissatisfied child becomes a problem for the society.
By the grace of Allah Almighty my childhood has been worth remembering. I was born in a village. Our family was quite large. Of seven brothers and sisters my number was the fourth. In a way, I was really sandwiched. It proved a mixed blessing for me. If someone teased me, I also had someone to tease. If someone pleased me, I also had someone to please.
We seven brothers and sisters lived like a team. We played so many games together. We had not to depend on the children of other families. Sometimes we had also quarreled with other children. We always won these quarrels because our unity was our main strength. Our parents brought us in a perfect religious, atmosphere. They cared for all our needs. They did a very difficult job. I am all praise for them and wish them a long and happy life.
I remember the games that I played with my fellows in my village. The bright sunny days of winter’ were full of our noise. During the moonlit nights of summer, we played hide-and-seek. These games will always remain fresh in my mind. It seemed that the fairies were our playmates. It filled us with a sense of joy as well as pride.
Sometimes our family had to move to the nearby town to attend some function. It was a matter of great thrill for me. I tried to make my visits enjoyable. There everyone of us passed his time independently. Away from our home we sisters and brothers enjoyed the company of our cousins. All of us had friends of our choice. How sweet it was to have independence.
When our cousins visited us, it was surely the best period of life. Our til relatives came to us three times in a year. They visited us during holidays, during winter holidays and during the rainy season of summer. The rainy days in summer were the best days of my life. In the afternoons first came the dust storms. Then followed the heavy rain. This process had a special attraction for us. The gush of wind carrying a lot of dust was far better than the artificial cool air. Sometimes the dust altogether changed our appearance (ambos). Then it was very hard to see our original faces.
The rain that usually followed the dust storm was very enjoyable. We were offered tasty and juicy mangoes of our own orchards. These mangoes were far sweeter than the apples of paradise. Now they have lost their sweetness and freshness, or I have lost my childhood.
Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!
Ah, fields beloved in vain!
Where once my careless childhood stray’d,
A stranger yet to pain!