It was a cool Sunday morning. I was catching up with my school friend over lunch. Unfortunately, that meet will be remembered as the one when I came to know about our playground being demolished for construction of a building. It was only then when we knew that we were so attached to it. We called up some of our other childhood friends and decided to give the playground a visit in my hometown before it was destroyed.
As we were traveling to our hometown, memories of the countless evenings spent on the ground flashed before my eyes. It was not a fancy lush green grass ground, but a serene and vast red earth ground. It looked particularly exquisite at dawn, because of the sun rising over the mountains besides the ground. The smell of red earth after first rains filled the atmosphere with something that made us happy to be alive. In the mornings, the chirping of birds, the laughing club of the oldies, and very unfrequent road traffic added to the pleasant surroundings.
It was a designated playground, unlike today’s most grounds in the city which are by products of disputed lands. The ground was family. Our entire childhood was spent with it. In the summer holidays, there would be days when we didn’t see our parents. But we never missed an evening on the ground with a football. The ground not just made sports-persons, it made friendships that were bound to last forever. We didn’t just learn lessons of football and cricket, or teamwork, we learnt life lessons on the ground. We learnt to respect seniors. We learnt that perseverance is the key to success. We learnt that there is no substitute for hard work. We learnt that it is okay to fail. We learnt never to give up.
As we reached the ground, we saw the excavation being done for the building. Our hearts were full with emotions. The eyes overflowed. It was time to let go.