Going
to school in childhood, starting with
the mother's hand. My mother used to take me with her when she went to madrasa.
I wasn't too old to go to school then. I used to go to madrasa, but I didn't
like sitting in any class. When my mother took that class, I used to sit in
that class. The girls in the class called me. I used to sit next to them. They
would give me chocolates. When school was over, I would go back home with my
mother. Mother used to say, school to understand the environment, he took her
with me. In the afternoon I would go to play on the college field with 4/5
friends, sometimes on the river bank. Sitting down to read the rules in the evening. On the
day when it was not read, my mother used to beat me. Where are those days
today? Alas! Those days are no more today, neither is mother. The days are lost
in the pages of memory and the mother is lost in the sky. As I was writing, I
remembered my mother, along with the song "MAA" written by Prince mahamud
and sung by James Bhai. Anyway, don't go there.
Everything changes over time, a lot is lost.
- “He who comes to take the love of God can have no taste for the love of the world.” – Abu Bakr Siddique (ra).
https://manybooks.net/







0 comments:
Post a Comment