This is my introductory blog...to share with you a short sketch of my childhood.
Ihail from a very simple family with deeprooted traditional values. For me it was the usual....in my child hood...i grew up with the sound of rabindranath tagore's compositions...brilliant writings of satyajit ray(famed as a one of th greatest film directors ever), and other great writers of bengal, with the foriegn element being provided by Enid Blyton, Herge(Tintin),Hans anderson, wonderful russian authours like nikolas ostrovosky,pavel korchagin,etc(ofcourse they were translated to english), and translated chinese and japanese folklores.All the credit for this exposure to my reading habit goes to my Father specially.
It was quite an eventful time with great friends, delightful memories and the fantacies that a child's brain can think of. Mischief and creativity were the order of the day.
Since i grew up in a closely knit family with no siblings... i enjoyed a very intense bond with my parents...my mother was always my fairy...always there to fulfill my wishes... and i was.. out and out an outdoor person....swimming...badminton..cricket....running...wonderful days.....
Every winter, in the afternoon, whenever i get a time to take a walk and ponder back...i keep on flying into those days....and realize that it is like curse to grow up....we gain money...we make names...we are known as the matured citizen.....we gain all the material wealth that we can earn...we are free..no one to scold us.....AND IN TURN....we loose...our simplicity...our passion for the things that we believe..i Lost my mother.....my father is just a shadow of the past.....my childhood friends....all grown up...our thought limited by the boundaries of rationality......our ability to trust has faded away........
Just too many things that I lost to be a grown up....
Ihail from a very simple family with deeprooted traditional values. For me it was the usual....in my child hood...i grew up with the sound of rabindranath tagore's compositions...brilliant writings of satyajit ray(famed as a one of th greatest film directors ever), and other great writers of bengal, with the foriegn element being provided by Enid Blyton, Herge(Tintin),Hans anderson, wonderful russian authours like nikolas ostrovosky,pavel korchagin,etc(ofcourse they were translated to english), and translated chinese and japanese folklores.All the credit for this exposure to my reading habit goes to my Father specially.
It was quite an eventful time with great friends, delightful memories and the fantacies that a child's brain can think of. Mischief and creativity were the order of the day.
Since i grew up in a closely knit family with no siblings... i enjoyed a very intense bond with my parents...my mother was always my fairy...always there to fulfill my wishes... and i was.. out and out an outdoor person....swimming...badminton..cricket....running...wonderful days.....
Every winter, in the afternoon, whenever i get a time to take a walk and ponder back...i keep on flying into those days....and realize that it is like curse to grow up....we gain money...we make names...we are known as the matured citizen.....we gain all the material wealth that we can earn...we are free..no one to scold us.....AND IN TURN....we loose...our simplicity...our passion for the things that we believe..i Lost my mother.....my father is just a shadow of the past.....my childhood friends....all grown up...our thought limited by the boundaries of rationality......our ability to trust has faded away........
Just too many things that I lost to be a grown up....
