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It was morning, and after breakfast of rice and lentils my mother made for me, I lay on the veranda. Today felt different. Why were everyone dressed up nice? I remembered—it was our village fair (Boishakhi Mela) day .

When my mother asked "Do you want to go too"? My eyes shined with excitement. How could I say no? We all got ready fast and went to the fair.

When we got there the old monument of our village was in the middle of the field that was framed perfectly in the picture. My mother had once said that the villagers constructed it to honor the spirit and solidarity of the people of the village.

People were everywhere. Some were seated on those tiny stools, others were resting at the shade of trees. Some of the women kept on talking with each other while observing their children play with paper like windmills. Me and my sister looked around in amazement. The stalls had some yummy home made food items, delicious fruits, wooden dolls, attractive bright coloured sarees amd more. It was such a happy sight.

At the base of big banyan tree standing nearby the pond, old men and women were discussing a lot about the bygone era. They could have been referring to the time in the village when there was no electricity, and everyone sat by lamp telling stories. Sometimes, a child would run by, laughing and interrupt them.

The fun part was the swings. My little sister begged to go on them, over and over again. Around the fair, we went tasting snacks from different stalls.

In front of the monument we saw it had been adorned with paper flowers. Some youthful men were thought the kids about the history of our village during the independence war. We both listened very attentively and we felt proud.

At night this fair was even brighter. There were lightings all over and some soft music being played in the background. Children were happily running around, youths were joking and some young women were even holding their children’s hand and happy to enjoy the night. I grabbed my sister’s hand and said, “We will never forget this”.

I still hearing the happy noise of the fair on my way home. For some reason it felt like the biggest celebration in our small village and something that we would never forget.

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