“Visit a place you haven’t visited for long to refresh the old memories” was once I heard of; flashing back my thoughts to some of many places I enjoyed growing up at, ended up with my birth place and high school; which shaped my being and revealed varied life dimensions onto me.
Childhood, the golden period of life with sweet blunders, naughty mischief, fool fun & smart tricks; however, immersed in the whirlpool of joy and ecstasy, lays the foundation of life. You then stretch into the phase of adulthood. Assuming to live the happiest life part; fantasizing youth of heroism makes one fly on the wings of pride and elegance. Only then your prompt experiences streamline your persona making you live through either cheerfully or otherwise.
On the verge of youth one dramatizes life occurrences as fun about which agonizing is a mere waste of energy and who minds it, but only to let things go by and live life as every other day. The companionship of friends, the joy of picnic, the sports of street, the hide & seek with family, the hasty look, the happy-go-lucky mode of life are no more than blessings, since they vanish into thick air before you step into the world of reality – the genuine life!
Presumably genuine life happens to make you give up the innocence of childhood, the fun of adolescence and the arrogance of youth, but most of all the ignorance of bitter pictures of worldly confrontation, hatred, distrust, atrocity, jealousy & hostility. All normal people go through these phases prior to choosing a path of their own. Moving back to the title, it did relieve my spirit for some minutes while closing my eyes and imagining years back, which made me feel as if I turned to my 10/ 12 (or thereabouts) years of age, when our noise used to awake the sleeping neighbors almost every other afternoon, who had no option but only to yell out; when our daily sports ended up with a fight over having not played lawfully, when the boys of older age used to interrupt our childhood games and we could only call for our parents; when we used to rush to school sharing our cartoon heroes (Tarzan, Swat Cats & Pink Panther – my favorite one), when we used to share with each other what our parents bought us for Eid & when our cackle, sounds of joy echoed throughout the street, this all flashed in some minutes as I stood by the house I was born at. All looked the same, but all I couldn’t find were the joy, the love, the warmth, above all my childhood, my infancy were gone by; however, I was wrapped up with memories of the great times of my life and that is what can never perish & no force can ever and ever confiscate them.
The street portrayed rather different scenario with people I had no acquaintance with. Lost deep into my childhood thoughts, I came by a neighbor, who reminded my childhood naughtiness. Then I saw the father of my friend, sitting at his shop and making some sale of candies to the kids. To my questions on how his health, family were he inquired who I am and how I knew him. I referred to my parents (a traditional way of introduction) and our play with his son Karrar Hussain. Thankfully he now has good job with a little kid.
Because it was mid of the week, I could not happen to meet the best childhood friend of mine, “Zahid- Hussain”, whom I played, read, and spent my both ignorance & innocence with. But heard he has good job; however, walking back I carried some of the golden memories with myself, which gave energy to my being to live happily and plan to be happy as our life has to be centered on happiness both internally and on the exterior.
My high school, where excitement to get pleasure from, passion to surpass whoever came across, curiosity to acquire knowledge, will to respect & be respected & love to rise high was what I aspired to attain at. Every single teacher’s face rotated on the orbit of my school memory recalling the period of my growth, my receptivity & maturity. Each time I visited school, glanced around; the assembly place, where discipline, unity and fraternity we learnt; the lawns, where fun we had with mates, the playground, where we played sports , TEAMWORK & where we fell time again, but were taught to rise and stand tall looking into the very eyes of every challenge very boldly.
Our first major social circle begins at high school, where we interact with boys of all types, with varying family backgrounds and social status. Some are shy, who are grown up very delicately; some are reserved but bookworm, having wish of their parents in head; some are reckless & happy-go-luck with pride of high class; some are athlete with energy blooming on their faces; some are ill-disciplined with the image of negligent family; while some are matured and sensible, always given the role of class leader – monitor; however, in our classes, the taller and older boys were privileged, who would care for nothing & be of their own. Despite all the odds, school memories act as the building blocks of our life. Given better guidance & directions, one reaps fruitful outcome; on the contrary, the society will be on the mercy of ill-mannered & ignoramus people as the products of incompetent teachers. My gratitude to all my teachers for having contributed to the eternal memories of my life – I owe you much!
Our memories – be they good or else – lead us to the triumphant destiny we opt by our own, depending on how we shape those memories into the genuine life span, and contribute to the infinite peace in the world of our thoughts and that of the living beings.
December 12, 2010
