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Don't you think the memories were lovely? The memories of childhood, the memories of cousins the memories of friends!! My writing on some childhood memories, which are mine, yours, all of us!!
The new house was close to jyathamosai(Bade papa) and pisima's (Bua) house, so there was no shortage of playmates.
In a group of cousin brothers and sisters came together. In one corner of the roof, Ganga soil was collected from the addle water tank, so a fierce battle started by making slobs-bullets. Named the Battle of Patgultish War, the game was going very well in the soft mud shots. Suddenly, with a sense of humor, I turned the bullets red and burned them. When the servants went to rest in the afternoon, I would secretly enter the kitchen and shoot in the dead ovens. But both sides began to get so injured that it was forbidden to go to our kitchen.
Another day, while playing potgultish at Jyothamshai's (Bade papa) house, one of his hands suddenly slipped and hit the floor of the stairs (on the ceiling). Heavy fun, everyone started to kneel together. Seeing that, the roof was filled with mud. At that moment, hearing the sound of Jyothamshai's (bade papa) footsteps, he hid wherever he could. Jyothamshai(bade papa) and the boys of the house were terrified. His face and voice were serious. I used to hear that he is a great player, very strong, and very angry. But we never saw his anger. Whenever I would go home, I would see that he was studying with one mind. If he ever looked at us, he would smile and say a couple of things. Which, of course, made the video an overnight sensation. Jyethamshai (Bade papa) is slowly climbing the stairs thinking what he is thinking, suddenly a key fell at his feet. Startled, he shouted at Guruganvi's throat, "Who are you? Bring me." ' As soon as the servant ran away and grabbed the front of the stairwell, he saw what was going on. He said threateningly, what is this again, where did it come from? ' The servant shuddered and said, "I wonder what the boys were playing."
Another day playing thief-cop. Grandpa is a cop, I'm a thief. I had a snake-faced bracelet in my hand, one of its mouths was pulled apart and the other bracelet was melted through it and my grandfather made a handcuff and took me away. As soon as I let go of my hand, the new bracelet broke and spread on the roof in two or three pieces. I picked up the pieces and took them to my mother. Mother laughed and said, "I see Taema, now I have to roll Lahar's bracelet."
In cricket, hockey, etc., the handcuffs started on that roof. Whether I was a little 'dasyi' or not, I was very strong in playing with my grandparents. I also enjoyed playing with dolls with my grandparents. The doll's bed, chair-table, tea-set, dinner-set, brass and earthen pots, handicrafts, housework, cooking. Once upon a time at a doll's wedding, we decorated the wedding with a flower-leaf flag and put six rows of colorful candles in the jail, called everyone and showed them how beautiful they looked.
Then everyone went downstairs to read the food. After eating, I saw that it was a fire in the puppet house! Six candles have been lit for a few minutes in July, and this time the wooden roof has begun to burn. Quickly pouring water, the fire was extinguished, but the puppets survived unscathed. One of our fun games was 'Rag Bananae'. Maybe he is angry with Kara but I can't pay his respects. We would immediately start talking about the lake which was starting to make a weird story. There was no animosity or ferocity in him, no evil thoughts in that person's corner, just funny jokes. We would laugh and giggle at the thought of all that nonsense, no matter how ridiculous and unprepared people might be. Dadar 'ha-ya-ba-ra-l book
Hiji-biz-biz 'like' remembering 'as much as all the bizarre fantasies of laughing and trying to stop breathing, we are almost in the same situation. But the funny thing is that in the stream of laughter, all the ragtags would float away - the mind would be filled with light happiness again.
And there was a fun game, telling stories in poetry. One would say the first line with a story known in a corner, the other would say the second line with it, the next one would be the third line, thus ending the story. If no one can beat him, the next one will say. Grandpa never gave up. No matter how strong the hack.
It would have matched quickly. As is happening one day.
The story of the tiger and the buck-
Once a bone broke in the neck of a tiger.
There is no relief in pain.
He slept for three days and three nights.
Bake in oil and butter, put in yellow-
This is how Sundarkaka said while walking-
He put his long beak inside.
No one can match it anymore. We all passed, as soon as Grandpa's turn came
He said quickly
Buck is a very clever doctor.
We shouted, "You don't have to say that." What are you talking about? Sundarkaka
Pleased, he patted his grandfather's back and said, "Chunu means master, expert." Dada started writing poetry at an early age. His first poem at the age of eight
'River is second to nine years old' was published in Tik Tik Tong Mukul. Seeing my grandfather, I also have a hobby of writing poetry. I wrote a couple of poems with a lot of flowers and herbs hidden in a notebook, then I started writing a story. One afternoon while sitting and writing a story, a gentleman came to see my father. I sat him down and called Dad. Dad came and talked with him for a while, then the two of them went out together.
I left my notebook on the table. As soon as they left, I went to fetch the notebook and saw that the gentleman had finished the rest of the story by himself. He was a famous writer Nagendranath Gupta! Growing up, I read many beautiful stories written by him in Prabasi. His writing in my notebook must have been very good, but what happened to my mind then? I think, my story turned to dust! Sadly, I tore up the book.
Funny when dad used to go somewhere abroad
He used to write letters to us in pictures and verses. When we finished reading, how many of them would go around hand in hand. If it had been collected, it would have been an interesting book.
Please share your views on this story, And also write about your childhood and if you do, don't forget to tag me.....
