Once upon a time I lived my life.

Sometimes I think about the back old days. The kid I was, who run through the paddy fields and came back home being a Clayman. There was mud all over my body and my mother used to take me to the pond and wash all the dirt off me. Then a plate of food full of rice, lentils, and fish. That was something else. I didn't ever see electricity, just heard about the rumor that such a thing exists, it's like magic. Now, I am surrounded by light all around myself but it feels boring and annoying pretty much. The purity of the light coming from the small lamp used to make me happy and I felt my complete senses. When the monsoon rain came every time, I used to crave to feel the raindrops on my tiny little 6 years old body and now I am afraid to catch a cold. In the winter time stealing the death juice was the most enjoyable thing and to play beside the fire. And who can forget about the taste of those cakes for which we waited long and after a long wait when grandmom served in the clay plate. Sometimes I think trying to be civilized was a mistake, maybe we are like those wild wolfs without chains, maybe that is scary to think but may be that is how we can truly live. Sometimes I think about them deeply. It feels like I have truly lived when I no one teach me what life is. Finally to end with a Tagore song.