My paradise in East

How difficult can it be to live in a fortified land where every movement is recorded and every person is a i.d card number. Though being a twelve year old I did not comprehend the concept and was in love with this little world detangled from the civilization outside. It was a valley with forest covered hills around. No one on the other side of these hills would ever know that there is a small town in the valley beyond the backwoods.
Living in this utopia was a dream for any twelve years old. The town was out of a story book, meandering roads wrapping the slopes leading to the wide lanes with thatched roof houses with well kept gardens and bamboo fences.
Sun would rise way to early in this place and sun rays made sure that by six in the morning the town was buzzing. Few children would scamper down the slope to bee line for the school bus while few would drag themselves somehow to make it just in time. In this town everyone knew everybody; children knew their teachers as neighbours and their neighbours as school mates. After school lives became an adventure in itself. There was so much to do pedal on the slopes of those snaking roads, just go for a stroll with friends near the bush to spot weird flowers and plants and sometimes strange colourful insects and many a times reptiles. At that young age intrigue takes over the fear and caution. Small joys were magnified in this magical world of mine.

Going for a swim in the central pool was an adventure itself. A rectangular ordinary tiled pool had been constructed in one of the depressions of the hillock to get to the pool you had to come down many steps, enough to keep you back from counting. Though the pool used to close just before sunset to avoid close encounters of swimmers with creepy crawlies, children would many a times crowd around the pool keeper to listen to the story about the brown snake which got caught in the net or sometimes about those big lizards which were spotted getting out after a morning dip.

Another one of favorite things to do after school work was reading comics at the library; somehow i never remember tracking time.Library was one of the landmarks in the town, a white washed building with a manicured garden and flower beds in bloom with seasonal flowers. It stood at a road turn; the reading area was always filled with the silence and excitement of many children who would pedal down the roads in the pleasant evenings to borrow books and meet friends.

It was an idyllic place with everything so pristine and beautiful that i remember it as a picture book. Sun Rise over the hills, sun shine bouncing on the lake where Sundays people could get the picnic baskets and take the boat to the middle of the lake and brunch at the small island in the lake. Crossing the bumpy bridge built over the creek to get to the golf course where there were slopes of green carpet like grass; rolling laughing down the slopes, fishing and turtle spotting in the fish pond. Holidays were awaited as there was always some new adventure waiting.