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Essay on A Childhood Memories
I forced the door open and was blinded by sunlight and choked from all of the dust that had settled in the room. As I entered, the wooden floors slightly give way. Rusty nails poked out of the floorboards and old water stains have made designs on the walls. Woods were really rusty and at any given day this house would collapse. There was reading table against the wall and top of it there were some seashells setting. Most of the drawing on the wall were washed away but some are still there but fading. There was a closet at the right hand corner of the room. I opened the closet and there was a small plastic box at the corner of the closet. As I washed the dust away, the name Partha start to become clear. I open the box and all the seashells were still there way I left it. Looks and furniture of this room has changed but memories are still trapped into this room. Big part of that is memories involved Radi. My childhood consist of ocean and Radi. I really don't remember that much about my childhood. I grew up in a city called Citagong in Bangladesh. It wasn't a big city. There were no shopping malls or college. There was couple of elementary and high school. Most people who lived in there didn't have money to send their children to school. Whole city grew because of Koxibazar Beach and lots of people from different parts of country used to come there to visit. Most people who lived in that city some how their lives depended on the ocean. Majority of people were either fisherman or works in travel agency or at the shops around the beach. My parent born and grew up in that city. They used to work in a travel agency and never had too much time for me. From the day I got my sense there was this women who used to take care of me. Her real name was Radika but people used to call her Radi and...
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