My Fairyland Dream

My Fairyland Dream

I looked out of the window and gazed at the torment of nature. The lightning flashed like capillaries on the dark grey sky, followed by rumbling thunder. My mind raced to those yesteryears.

It started with tiny droplets followed by drizzles. We stood under the school portico and stretched our hands. The first drops of rain splashed on our little arms. We giggled, and our eyes twinkled as if we have unearthed the secret key to our long-lost treasure. The school bell rang, ushering in the end of the day. We rushed out despite the pouring rains. 

The socks, shoes, and our tiny feet got dirty as we strode on the muddied path, but our joys had no limits. We deliberately jumped on the puddles and avoided the dried track, and we would not care.            

We boarded the school bus, and the torrential rains resumed. Our hearts danced as we tore the pages from our notebooks and promptly folded them into paper boats. The wheels of the school bus rolled into the flooded streets and splashed the water on the sidewalks. We tossed those handcrafted boats through the windows of the bus. They bobbed and floated into the water-logged areas.  

Our exciting minds enjoyed these simple nuances in our lives. We were not bothered to catching a cold as we got drenched but continued to play in the open grounds. We danced and sang to the tunes of praises for the showers from Heaven. 

We collected the fruits that fell from the trees in abundance. We ate some and relished their taste, without bothering about dirty hands and places. Rest of our collections, we pocketed in our fancy dresses. Sometimes, we shivered due to long hours spent on wet surfaces and the cold, but it did not hamper our lively souls.  

Our short structure submerged in knee-deep water, we waded through them and laughed together. Sometimes, we became a little more mischievous, and splashed the dirty waters on one another, but we enjoyed those moments forever.  

We also found fish and frogs wading when the incessant rains continued. We made small nets with plastics and dived in the lanes to catch them. Our boundless enthusiasm celebrated the victory of grabbing one small fish. The innocence of childhood was ecstatic. 

The scolding from our parents did not dampen our spirits. We bathed and freshened in our cosy dwellings and yearned for another chance to get soaked. The sounds of pitter-patter continued till late at night, and it resonated in our dreams. 

Ah! Those days of childhood innocence. The rigmaroles of earthly tensions had not affected our unpolluted psyches. The luxuries had long touched our present existence but could not match up to those pure, blissful days of divine survival. 

It was these memorable moments in my fairyland dreams. I shed a tear in remembrance of those memories. I wish in silent prayer, if only that wonderful bygone era could be revived and reinstated. 
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