I came to this earth many a year back. The world was different. I can’t remember it exactly.
There was school in day; cricket or football in the afternoon; study in the evening. There was radio and its programmes. Saturday was special with Boroliner Songsar at Bibidho Bharoti, anchored by dear-to-listeners Sravanti Majumdar.
There were kites in sky in winter. There were kite-chasers. A cut-off kite drew out to roads crowds of boisterous boys with long slim twigs in hand to entangle twirling loopy threads of kites.
Picnic was there under tree shades with a simple fare: rice, dal and egg curry. If chicken was included, picnickers felt over the moon.
Spring came with colours and southern winds. Love was in the air.
Summer occasioned lying in roof over madur under the canopy of open sky.
Monsoon came with rains. Frogs had a field day. Fishes swam in pools of water.
Autumn came with spotless blue sky and oceanic white clouds. Dhaks were beaten. Kash swayed.
Hemonto appeared briefly. Dews were dropped on grass blades. Corns were cut in the fields.
Life was spent in between. It was a no-frills life. So simple. So touching.
Now life is proverbially fast. There is no time to stand and stare. Everyone is racing along.
Race is the mantra of life. Everything is gone. One has to win a race. Time runs very fast now.
Now winter, summer, spring, monsoon, autumn – everything comes and goes as indicated by calendar. Life can not relate to them. Life is very fast now. It cannot feel. It is hooked to cell phones.
Life, in true sense, becomes mobile.
The past recedes very fast from memory.