A night under the village lights and the warmth of friendship

Hello dear friends,
I hope you all are doing well and spending a beautiful life with your loved ones. I wish you all happiness and peace.

Sometimes, the real meaning of happiness isn’t found in the bright lights of the city, but in the laughter shared among friends on a quiet village ground. Last week, I had two days off from work, and I went back home to my village. It had been a long time since I last visited, and as soon as I stepped onto the familiar soil, my heart felt lighter. The noise and rush of city life seemed to fade away instantly.

Right beside our home, there’s a traditional village market. During the day, it’s always crowded—shopkeepers shouting, customers bargaining, the air full of life. But when night falls and the shops close, the big open space in the middle of the market becomes completely empty. That very place holds countless memories of our youth and friendship. Some of us learned to ride bicycles there, some held a cricket bat for the first time, and some began their first love stories right in that spot.

This market is truly the heart of our village. During the day, it’s about trade and people; at night, it becomes a gathering place of laughter and friendship. As winter approaches, the chilly breeze and light fog create a magical atmosphere. Some villagers set up badminton nets, while others bring out cricket bats. We hang electric bulbs around the area, and under those dim lights, we play cricket with full excitement and joy.

Last Friday night was truly special. After weeks of office work, I finally joined my friends again for a game of cricket. As I stepped onto the field with the bat in hand, it felt like I had traveled back in time—to those carefree days of youth. The excitement of short-boundary cricket, the sound of the ball hitting the bat, and the cheers of friends—it was pure happiness. Some villagers gathered around to watch, sipping tea or munching on puffed rice, turning the whole market into a little festival.

Even as the night stretched past midnight, the game continued. The cool wind brushed our faces, but no one felt tired. Sometimes the ball went missing, and we’d all grab flashlights to search for it, laughing the whole time. Those moments were priceless—no worries about money, work, or responsibilities. Just pure laughter, competition, and togetherness.

Now that I’m back in Dhaka, busy with my office routine again, my mind often drifts back to that night. I can still see the glowing bulbs, the smiling faces of my friends, the sound of the ball, and the cold village breeze. Even now, when I close my eyes at night, I feel like I’m standing there in the middle of that field again—surrounded by my friends, playing our hearts out.

Happiness truly lives in these simple, fleeting moments. Whenever city life feels overwhelming, the memory of that village night gives me peace. Life’s real joys are scattered all around us—we just need the heart to feel them.