Yes, it’s about the childhood days. Those were the most beautiful and wonderful days of my life. I was born in Odisha, a still developing state in the Eastern coast of India. I was born to a family of teaching professionals. My father was the Principal of a science institute while my mother was a lecturer in a government woman’s college. I remember the first day I went to school, my father told me come let’s go for a ride. I was very happy and got ready immediately. While I was getting ready, I thought of chocolates and toys. As we started, I kept looking at all the chocolate stores and toy shops as they passed. My father never stopped. We drove for sometime and finally stopped. My father said ‘come let’s go’. I was bit confused about the place I landed. It was an old building with a small door. As I marched towards the small door holding the hand of my father, I could hear noise and the noise became louder and louder as I came close. After reaching at the door, a lady whom I never saw before came smiling, talked with my father about something which I could never know still and asked me to come with her. By then, I was confused to the core and wanted to know where did I land. I remember the waving hands of my father as I looked back walking along with the old lady. Sudden feeling of sadness rushed inside my body as I was taken away from my father. Withing fewer seconds, I reached a room where there were lots of like me. At first, I was happy to see them but as I looked closer at each I could see some crying, some playing, some doing something with a black plate and a white thing in their hands. I got seriously sad at these sights and wanted to run away to my father. I was made to sit on the ground with others like me and was provided a black plate and the same white thing which I saw as I entered. I had no idea what was going on. The only thing that flooded my brain that time was to run away to my father. I had thought of chocolates and toys few moments ago, and I was having a black plate and a white thing in my hand now. I started crying and tried to sprint out of that room. But the old lady made sure I could never leave the room. I was angry and kept crying sitting on the ground. I broke the white thing into small pieces and avoided the black plate. I wanted to go home and play. I sat there for few hours crying, looking at others like me, doing something with the white thing on the ground. The old lady kept telling something which I had no idea of as I never paid attention to what she was saying. I was furious and at the same time I was sad. Soon my torture period came to an end as I was allowed to move out of the room with others like me. I cried out loud when I saw my father standing outside waiting for me. I hugged him tight and said ” this is a bad place” and I am not liking it. My father said “it’s OK”, let’s go home. As we rode back home, we stopped at a variety store and my father bought me lots of chocolates and toys. I was very happy and returned home hugged my mother and played with my elder sister. This continued to happen with me regularly. After many months I came to know that the black plate was actually called “slate” and the white thing which I always broke into pieces was called “chalk” and the “others like me” whom I used to meet every day were my “first classmates”. Perhaps it took me many many years to realize that “It was my first day at school”. Today, as I type all these in my smart phone in my hand, my eyes get wet thinking about how things have changed from that day when I had a “black plate” and “a white thing” in my hand. I wish I could start again from that day and correct all my mistakes in life. Those days which was full of real love, emotions and fun will never return and I can’t revisit those yesterdays and right my wrongs. I am grateful to my parents for their unconditional love, support and care without which I would have been a different person today.
Life 