How happy are the childhood days! How free from care and anxieties a man is then! No work and all play-this is the usual routine. Sleep while you sleep and play while you are awake. No home task! No fear of examinations! When I look back on those happy days of my life, I feel I have forgotten much of it; only a few events of my life stand out prominently. And here are a few of them.
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I was yet a child, just big enough to walk on foot. I quietly slipped out of the house to buy chocolates. No one noticed my absence. I reached a shop. I climbed up the counter and asked for the toffees of my choice. The shopkeeper recognized me. He gave me a few chocolates. He did not demand any money from me. I came out of the shop, removed the wrapper which covered the toffees and began to enjoy them.
Soon I walked away and got lost. My mother was the first to notice my absence. She began to search for me. All the members of the family ran here and there to find me out. A report was lodged with the police. It was late at night that I was found. My father was very angry. He gave me a good beating. He told me not to go out alone. The beating had a good effect. I never went out alone as a child after that.
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A few years later I was of school-going age. My father got me admitted to a nearby school. It was run on modern lines. One day the teacher was out. The class began to make a noise. The headmaster was on his usual round. He heard the noise. He came into the class room. Without trying to find out who the guilty one was, he came near me, caught me by the arm and gave me a good thrashing. I was innocent. The headmaster’s beating left a bitter memory in my mind. What pained me most was that I was beaten for no fault of mine.
There are some other events which left a deep impression on my mind. I was only six years old when cruel death snatched my mother away. I was now alone. My father consoled me. He gave me money to spend. He was very loving and kind. All these endearments could not heal the wound which had been caused by the death of my mother. I wept for my mother. I feared to enter the room where she had breathed her last.
In course of time I forgot my sorrow. I joined school. I did well. Invariably I topped the list of successful students. I received several prizes. My father encouraged me. My stepmother — for my father had married again-tried to be kind to me. I am now in the twelfth class in the school and hope to do well. But however hard I might try, I have never succeeded in forgetting my dear mother.