SC-S29/W3- Nostalgia Of The Liitle Me : Childhood Food Memories

Assalamu Alaikum and courtesy to my Hindu brothers and sisters. How are all my favorite people in the community? Hope you are all well and healthy. Alhamdulillah I am fine with Allah's infinite mercy and your prayers. Today I am among you to participate in a beautiful and emotional contest of the Story On Steem community. This contest is organized by our dear @sohanurrahman brother, titled SC-S29/W3 – Nostalgia Of The Liitle Me : Childhood Food Memories. Writing about childhood food memories touched my heart deeply,So today I want to share with you a precious piece of my childhood memory. The memory is associated with a very simple but very loved food.

Source

Childhood is not just a time. Childhood means certain smells, certain familiar tastes and certain moments that, no matter how far we grow, suddenly one evening make us small again. One such memory from my childhood is associated with a very common but very special food. Even today, when I think of that meal, our village house, the afternoon sun in the yard, and a familiar smell wafting from the kitchen flash before my eyes. That food was very simple, but it was royal to my childhood. A simple pada made with hot rice and desi potatoes made by my mother, the taste of which is still indelible in my mind.

As children we were used to a very simple life. Food then meant not fancy names, restaurants or decorated plates as it is today. Food meant a full stomach, a full heart and the joy of eating together with the whole family. My mother used to get up early in the morning and start cooking. Before I woke up, the fire in the wood stove would be burning in the kitchen. The crackling sound of the fire, the sound of the lid of the pot shaking and the smell of the potatoes being cooked gave a strange sense of security. knewAfter a while mother will call me to eat.

Source

I used to go to school after eating this food, my mother would give tiffin again with fried rice flour bread and potato. This bread and fried potato was usually eaten in the afternoon. After returning from school, I would wash my hands and face and sit in the yard. The practice of sitting and eating in the courtyard is no more today. But that was normal then. Mother would serve rice on plantains, potato curry on the side and sometimes a green chilli. There were no extra arrangements. Still, it seemed like the best food in the world was in front of me. The rice steamed hot, and the potato broth mixed with the rice to create a distinct flavor. No matter how expensive food I eat today, I can't find that taste anywhere else.

I have feelings of deep love and dependence attached to this food. I didn't understand then, but now I do. It was not just food, it was mother's care, trying to keep the child well despite the limited resources of the family. Mother herself often ate less, but filled our plates. I didn't understand these things then, I only knew what my mother wrote.That is the most delicious.

Source

We often eat this dish in the village, especially on rainy days. It is raining outside, the yard is wet, and inside the house we are all sitting together eating. This scene is a symbol of nostalgia for me now. At that time there were no mobiles, no screens. There was only talk, laughter and small stories associated with food. After eating, I would sit next to my mother and listen to stories.And it seemed that there was no safer place in the world.When I think of that food today, it's not just the taste. A kind of mild depression and pleasure work together. Tears do not come to the eyes, but there is a soft pain somewhere in the chest. Because I know, that time will never come back. That yard, that afternoon, that quiet mind.

Even today sometimes I try to make that dish. The ingredients are the same, the recipe is almost the same, but the taste is not the same. Then I realized that actually the taste of food has not changed. Time, people and feelings have changed. Now eat food in a hurry, in the midst of responsibility and worry. Then I used to eat in pure mind,without any pressure.Still, this memory taught me a lot. Taught that food is not just for filling the stomach, food is an expression of relationship, love and care. Taught that the deepest happiness lies in the simple things. When today's life is full of abundance, the memory of that simple childhood meal reminds me that happiness is just around the corner.

Source

This memory is a precious part of my life. Maybe one day I will make a dish for my children or grandchildren, which will remain in their childhood memories. Then they will grow up to write, think and laugh about this food one day just like me. With that hope, I sometimes stand in the kitchen and find the taste of my mother's hands, knowing that I will never get the whole thing again.Still trying not to stop.Organizing this competition today felt like looking back at my childhood food memories. No matter how much time changes, some feelings never get old. Those quiet days lost in the hustle and bustle of life. I remembered the taste of my mother's hands and the warm atmosphere of the house again. Through this writing I was able to experience not only a food story, but love, care and the simple yet precious moments spent with family. These memories have taught me that true happiness is often not in the big things.Rather, it is hidden in the small moments of childhood.

Source

Invite my friends

@riyadx2
@abubakar121
@redwanhossain

Written by @samsunnaharsuity
From: Badarganj Upazila, Rangpur District, Bangladesh