Pritha Ghosh

Children Stories Drama


Pritha Ghosh

Children Stories Drama

Through meadows of childhood

Through meadows of childhood

3 mins

Cherished Memories are like the soft crimson toned cumulus clouds that you often see in the twilight sky, they lack harsh moods of the day and also the desperate rawness of the dawn.

"They caress your soul like

The first whiff of fresh air of spring

Like petrichor from your garden

After a scorching long day,

Often like the bliss

Seeing your inner child giggle

Adorned by perpetual effervescence

Nostalgia I say,

You are the purest bliss"

My father, a civil engineer by profession was transferred to Chiranjibpur, Haldia, Midnapore district, India for a new project. If you ask me to rewind and live happiness once again, I would definitely want to go back to this place, our small quarter, that swing in the park, the smell of, and of course my best friend and partner Bulti and her brother Culture. For keeping identity undisclosed, I will be using their nicknames and am writing this on bulti's request.

We were around 6 years old then, Bulti used to stay just the building opposite, top floor, right flat. I wonder how vivid my memories are sometimes, I still remember everything. She was always the kind of perfect, obedient girl who knew no sin. And as far I recollect I was definitely the most demonic entity amongst them. I used to study in St.Xaviers along with bulti but in a different unit. Today I feel, it must have been utter bliss for her.

So during school hours, I could not screw her more.

Coming back from school, the only aim of our being was to jump over the gate and trespass into that park. This park belongs to a primary school which always used to stay closed. Now after 25 years, I can still feel the thrill in my veins and pounding of my beats remembering them.

Perhaps, that's why they say tastier is the fruit forbidden. They color your memories with the right spices of Tarka ( Indian way of adding spices in plain lentil soup for making it tastier)

"Between us

There were no tsunamis of jealousy

No cyclones of complexities

There were just childhood innocence

Inducing radiance to the otherwise gloomy life"

" And like a butterfly

We fluttered higher and higher

Up in the clouds

Above the milky way

Walking through the windows of time

With our diamante wings"

In the realms of my mind, Haldia is often like a timeless tide, albeit It aged but like the oldest wine in my closet. It's essence still lingers and often abscond me on its wings to a dream which I can only live with eyes closed.

Rate this content
Log in

More english story from Pritha Ghosh