My Earliest Memory!

This is one of my earlier attempts at blogging. I had posted memories in four parts and the first one I am re-posting here.  

At times a procession of memories conquer our present and our mind becomes a participant in that.

               …….that never returns…

Part -1

There are a good many things that never return in their original forms. The time that we spend, the food that we gulp, the objects that burn, the lives that expire and the like are a few such things.

 There is one thing that everybody likes or loves to experience once more in life, but cannot, is nothing but our childhood. And that will never- never appear before us once more; that is a paradox, which we have to abide by. Sometimes we wish we were children without any wish for achievements and without any chains for movements.

 Now let us have a voyage along through the seas of our good old days of getting petted and pampered. There will be none who have not reached the shore of sweet childhood, sailing in the ship of their memory. So also, no different is my case. My childhood that once pedalled through my beloved hamlet, registers its presence in the ledger of my leisure hours.

 Yes, now I’m there at the panorama of my village, which is in the south of India. The southernmost part of India contains a small corrugated leaf-like state called Kerala. The picturesqueness of my rural area steals the mind of its visitors as well as the dwellers. Yes, it was full of tall trees with swaying twigs and bushes with lots and lots of flowers (And now more or less concrete trees or jungles have displaced the very charm of our lovely village).

 Butterflies and birds fluttered by and visited their favourite nectar storage to feast themselves sufficiently. That was indeed a colourful sight. Wells quenched the thirst of peasants, while ponds refreshed them after the day’s work. Fields grew grains in abundance and, trees and plants yielded fruits and flowers in plenty. They dressed up in the apparel of three crops annually, two turns of paddy and one turn of sesame or horticulture. The cool breeze fanned the people in the hot sun. The sun never failed to attend to his duties and shone on all the stone pebbles and sand particles. The monsoons were ambrosia for the villagers, as they awaited them as hornbills. Birds often turned to be great singers and sang melodies and fine tunes for the villagers. They occupied their seats in branches to watch coolly the things going on smoothly in their jurisdiction. Nights also exhibited the lustre and lure of her children-the moon and stars, whenever required.

 The landowners and the farmworkers kept a sincere bond of love and affection. One could feel a oneness between them. The peasants took care of the fields and cultivations, whereas the masters cared for the workers’ welfare. Pretension had space seldom in the minds of both the giver and the taker. They understood the barriers that hindered each other and hence so they could overcome the difficulties with a combined endeavour. In general, the occupants of my village possessed a light heart in hardships or prosperity because they had no sky breaking dreams or ambitions. Innocence and earnestness ruled the inhabitants’ minds as a whole.

For http://writetribe.com/my-earliest-memory/