Childhood is the sweetest period of human life. Everybody is fond of remembering his or her childhood days and I am no exception to this rule. Whenever I recollect my childhood memories, my mind fills with amusement.
I can hardly remember what happened during the first four years of my life. But so far as I guess, I was an object of care and affection to all in the family. Everyone in the family loved me very much.
I fondly remember the day of the beginning of my learning. I was then five years old. I was sent to village pathshala. There I was admitted to class 1. This village pathshala was an interesting place to me. I enjoyed reading there with a lot of boys of my age.
But the day ever to be remembered by me is the day on which my grandmother died. It is the saddest day of my life. I was then nine years old, so I could not properly understand what death meant. My father was sobbing, my mother was weeping bitterly and my uncle was crying, but I burst into a loud cry. Even now my eyes get wet with tears whenever her face flashes into my mind.
Another important event that I fully remember was the marriage ceremony of my uncle. I was then twelve years old. Our house was full of guests, and I passed a few days in the midst of joy and mirth. My aunt is highly qualified; she is kind and loving too. Soon I grew into her favour and affection. She took charge of my education and became my guide and guardian.
Of recollections outside school, the memory of plucking flowers, stealing mangoes, coconuts, etc. is still fresh in my mind. How happy I was at my childhood days! I wish I were a child again
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