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My City

Reminiscence of Innocent Childhood Days

I let my imagination free. I am not a kid anymore and I do not behave like it in front of people I hardly know. Deep inside I am the same kid who once had courage to accomplish something that other people would get easily but I had to struggle in every nook and corner to grab, feel and let the ecstasy raise its peak to make it a great show.
By Moin Uddin

I let my imagination free. I am not a kid anymore and I do not behave like it in front of people I hardly know. Deep inside I am the same kid who once had courage to accomplish something that other people would get easily but I had to struggle in every nook and corner to grab, feel and let the ecstasy raise its peak to make it a great show. 


I grew up in a Muslim family. However, I got a nationality by where my generations worked their way out to live and grow. I hardly had any Muslim friends, only a few relatives with whom I would play some games and have fun sharing the communal feeling. I am thankful that I grew in a mixed culture – didn’t know any differences while in the early days of growing up. 


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Most of my friends were Newars and I spent my childhood in their company. We shared food, school and playground. We would sometimes quarrel out of my strong ego to make it to a point to prove that I would not apologize alone for the shared mistakes. 


As I fondly recall my childhood days today, it reminds me of the mischief and a strong that I shared with my friends. We had some good as well as bad days, but when I look back, only history can decide if the days were worth what I am today. 


We shoplifted and often times climbed trees to steal numerous fruits from other people’s gardens. I still remember dogs chasing us and at one particular nicely built house with a beautiful garden while we were climbing the outer walls to grab some guavas. In hurry and amid fear of getting caught, I had slipped into a pond that had a statue of a baby peeing on the pond.


The upper half of the statue was broken, but the lower body still peed. This made me laugh until my stomach hurt. I finally gathered myself and managed to flee with a few guavas that I had slipped inside my shirt. 

I shared the story and guavas with my friends, they praised my courage and encouraged me to do it again, and the drama continued for a few more years. 


Suddenly, all the innocence was gone and I was left alone to go on with my life. Reflecting the childish courage, I don’t regret but miss those innocent times. I miss my courageous part. I would jump into any challenge that lay ahead. But the times have changed and instead of my friends life itself challenges me each day, making me a warrior. 

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