Excavation into the Childhood


I have a treasure trove of golden memories of my childhood, like any other individual who had spent a fine quality of time in the lap of mother earth. Growing up in a village by spending almost a quarter part of life, being a part with trees, sky and stars experienced different types of life like breezes in a variety of seasons. This part of my life is equal to that of a heaven. In addition to this, my child was further surrounded by domestic animals in the farms and by the beautiful flying birds in the agricultural places. I had lot of time at my disposal like any other child of my age, to feel the pulse of the place at every given moment.

Amidst the exotic beauty of such village namely Cherlopalem of Nathavaram mandal ,Visakhapatnam District of Andhra Pradesh , I spent my childhood reading story books, drawing, and painting and playing with clay on the bank of the village tank. At the evening times, I used to mount my favorite buffalo back home from the fields, humming some folk tune. We played hide and seek and did lot of cycling also. Flying kites in the hot summer holidays was a great pastime.

In our games a stick could be a sword, a pebble could be a diamond, a tree will be a castle. We made up a thousand games. I was the king and also the Minister. In the autumn light I shone like a prince. We collected the world in small handfuls, and when the sky grew dark, we went home with colorful leaves and quills of birds in our long hair.

There was an ice cream cart which comes to my village, where we used to enjoy eating ice creams of different flavors. Our main concerns were play at every moment playing is the life. Catching birds with nooses made from the simple thread was more fun, but I never killed them but released them soon after my ego satisfied. I must have a control over the nature. That was the main thing. Carrying boys on back is more interesting. Sometimes we drink milk from the udder of the goats though it was somewhat dangerous we tried.

Now I live not in the present but in the past, In the globalized version of the universe I have to ruminate the ex childhood days. Those days are like an ambrosia for me to keep myself alive.