I still relish the time when our neighbourhood was the most amazing of all. we knew everyone, we knew what is happening in our friends's life and all the kids in the neighbour hood were friends. Even if the parents fought for some goofy reasons still the children had no effect of their fights upon the friendships. the knots were powerful and strong, the self entertainment was playing together and considering and trusting and enjoying upon and with each other. how times change with the blink of our eyes and we are only left to record and save them in our brain.
Today when i was taking a walk on my street i felt too much lonely in a car crowded neighbourhood. lots of cars on the street but no single person seen. the next generation growing up here is not as "childlike" as we used to be. i am very surprised with their diplomatic talk and false friendships with each other. why are they not pure kids, why is it a lot of poison in in them, why cant they play as friends and not rivals with each other. they fight like trained dogs and cocks, they scream like hooligans and they don't seemed mannered as they are brought up in orphanages and not at "expensive+ sophisticated" schools.
There was a time when we all used to play cricket on the street every Saturday night. our parents scolded us for being up whole night and we get frightened of their tempers. It was a time of happy moments when winning the match against the rival team from street next to us was the greatest pleasure of all. we all used to wait the whole week to get the non stop cricket from 6P.M Saturday to 10 P.M Sunday. the only aim of life was to beat them every match. the invention of 7 overs cricket game, the discovery of talent among our buddies. the rivalry used to last till Monday and as soon as the next Saturday approach a new game plan is set for a novel 1 innings match. our mothers and sisters and younger siblings who could not be added in the teams were our audiences and their appreciation was the greatest gift of all. the screams we made like bursting the tonsils, the hues our audiences raise when some one points out some cheating. i miss that time very much. now it seems like an oscar winner movie that exist in the black & white version and nobody wants to see it. the flashbacks are haunting me very day, in every dream, every time i take a walk the street hammers my head to come back, bring back the same fun. the same "us" back on the track, our audience who is gone and restricted to the boring TV channels. I am waiting for a courageous angel to drag out all the lovely players of our team out of their homes on to the street, which was once their beloved because they have forgotten her but she is still in love with them.
Today when i was taking a walk on my street i felt too much lonely in a car crowded neighbourhood. lots of cars on the street but no single person seen. the next generation growing up here is not as "childlike" as we used to be. i am very surprised with their diplomatic talk and false friendships with each other. why are they not pure kids, why is it a lot of poison in in them, why cant they play as friends and not rivals with each other. they fight like trained dogs and cocks, they scream like hooligans and they don't seemed mannered as they are brought up in orphanages and not at "expensive+ sophisticated" schools.
There was a time when we all used to play cricket on the street every Saturday night. our parents scolded us for being up whole night and we get frightened of their tempers. It was a time of happy moments when winning the match against the rival team from street next to us was the greatest pleasure of all. we all used to wait the whole week to get the non stop cricket from 6P.M Saturday to 10 P.M Sunday. the only aim of life was to beat them every match. the invention of 7 overs cricket game, the discovery of talent among our buddies. the rivalry used to last till Monday and as soon as the next Saturday approach a new game plan is set for a novel 1 innings match. our mothers and sisters and younger siblings who could not be added in the teams were our audiences and their appreciation was the greatest gift of all. the screams we made like bursting the tonsils, the hues our audiences raise when some one points out some cheating. i miss that time very much. now it seems like an oscar winner movie that exist in the black & white version and nobody wants to see it. the flashbacks are haunting me very day, in every dream, every time i take a walk the street hammers my head to come back, bring back the same fun. the same "us" back on the track, our audience who is gone and restricted to the boring TV channels. I am waiting for a courageous angel to drag out all the lovely players of our team out of their homes on to the street, which was once their beloved because they have forgotten her but she is still in love with them.
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