A walk through old days

A walk through the good old days

Would you like to accompany me on a walk? I would like to show you the time running through weather, the fragrance of memories and the innocent touch of childhood. So, hold my hand as we walk down the lane of memories. 

Flower shops with a strong fragrance of lilies, a platform with piles of english roses, sunflowers and an aunt making garlands of gulmohar gives us a bud of gulmohar. It's petals of bright orange colour feel velvety on touch and it's sweet fragrance engulfs us.

Ahead we feel a cold gush of wind, which has escaped from an Amul ice cream parlour. The mechanical air of Air Conditioning contrasting to the dry summer afternoon wins at seducing us. Just like the thirsty sparrows fly down to an earthen plate filled with water, we let our self indulge in Choco Bar.

As we walk ahead, eating our ice cream before it starts dripping, we see toy stores with dolls and varieties of teddy bears on the other side of the road. A stationery shop having sale on exam boards styled with pictures of Doremon, Disney Princess and Ben 10 makes us joyful.

We take a right towards the street leading to my neighbourhood and a chilling breeze of winter makes our nose tingle. We put on a woollen sweater and blow on our hands. Kids wearing matching blue school uniforms lock their bicycle with a rubber lock and race into the gates of school as loud ding ding ding of bell is rung but the smiling peon uncle. 

We go inside to see classrooms with high ceilings, a black board in the centre of the wall with a tube light alight on top of it. We see posters made by students and pigeons visiting the institute of education. 

The students have brown covered books and camel mathematical instrument boxes upon their wooden benches engraved with stories of first love, boredom, fandoms and promises of life long friendships. Some of the students are rubbing chalk on their shoes to make them look whiter. 

We pass a classroom where the monitor of the class is making a list of mischievous students until their teacher arrives, "please, rub away my name," says one of the students. "I will when you stay quiet" replies the monitor. 

We go on the second floor to find colourful piles of school bags laying outside every class. Everyone is silent in their seats and we can feel their nervousness for exams in our veins. 

We run down the wooden stairs and dash into the falling rain. As we walk out from the campus while jumping from puddle to puddle, we see a rickshaw with black plastic curtains on both of its side like wings on some mythical being. It comes at a halt next to the main door of the school. The kids tumble down their seats, pull out their bags and rush to their classes. The eldest of students picks up the littlest to drop them to their classes before going to their own. A gleeful cheer could be seen in their steps even when they are late. 

We pass by traffic of people in their raincoats and under their umbrellas. The sky flows through us as we let our self drench in its colour. On our way, we see kids dancing on the beats of the rain falling, some playing games even if they slip and fall. 

Some ladies sips tea in a veranda and sizzle of onion fritters matches the melody of rain reuniting with the ground. 

We take a left and start walking towards my home. The weather clears up as the evening falls. The familiar houses of people that I only know by their faces lines our way. Students tired from tuition and classes drags their feet towards home. The sparrows of my childhood greets me with "long time no see and where have you been" the crows fly from cables of television to light post looking with suspicion. 

Reaching my place we encounter a tree stretching its way inside my balcony. It looks far more strong and big compared to how I remember it. Which makes me wonder did I grow up or has the world around me shrunk?