Today I was bored and thought, why not take a round of my neighborhood, streets and my society and take some memorable pictures? I picked up my mobile in my hand and went out towards the old streets, but close to my heart streets.
These are the streets where my memories have passed, I have passed my childhood here and also there are many remembrance when I used to play in these streets with my friends and relatives.
As time has passed the life has totally changed, there are now only memories left. There are some specific place in these streets whenever I see them I go to my memories and it really hurts me that how the life is travelling too much fast.
There were friends with me around 15 years ago but now most of them are not in my city. Many of them are residing to foreign countries. Some of them have shifted to other cities and some of them have left this world.
Around 10-15 years ago the situation in my city was not too much good and there were extreme terrorism against one tribe with the name HAZARA. Genocide was at its peak and that was the time that people of my community left this country and shifted in Australia as asylum seeker. This story has a detail and will share in one of my posts later.
Let me discuss about the lovely moments I went through the streets and the society. My eyes fell on a beautiful house. That house was not just made of stone and cement, but it also had the color of love and memories in it. In front of it, roses were smiling, as if saying โLife is still beautiful here.โ
I went a little ahead and saw children playing gilli danda and cricket. Their shouting, laughing, falling and then getting up seeing all this reminded me of my childhood. I wanted to capture that innocence in a picture which is only found on childrenโs faces.
Our streets are small, but they are full of love and a sense of belonging. Every corner is a witness to some story. Somewhere an old grandma is sitting on the roof enjoying the sunshine, and somewhere an uncle is seen reading the newspaper with a cup of tea in hand.
These are the places where I am sure my father and mother also played here. They have passed their beautiful life here and they have a memorable memories as well. That is why these streets are my love and I will never forget.
I went to a small flower shop. There were flowers of every color rose, jasmine. The shopkeeper smiled and said "Want to take a picture? brother, but donโt forget to take a flower too I laughed and said, Sure, I will take the flower ring because someone special is coming from Saudi Arabia and we want to welcome with these bunch of flowers.
Finally, when I came back home, there were not just pictures in the camera, but memories too. Every picture had a story, a feeling in it. Our neighborhood may be small, but its memory is very big. The culture, traditions, and people here everything makes this place special and I love the society and streets where I spend my childhood memories.
I will not just look at these pictures, I will feel them. Because this is my identity, my home, my neighborhood. I hope you guys will also like these pictures.
I hope you find this post interesting and I hope you will like it. If you like the post, please leave feedback in the comments section so that the next one will be even better. Thank you for sticking with me until the end.
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