My Land:A Treasure.
I was asked a question, when I was in my school. What does a LAND mean to you? My answer was like this, a land is the surface on the earth made up of soil particles, stones, rocks and pebbles. But if I am asked the same question today I may not answer in the same way, as it is no more physical body to me and emotionally involved with my heart and feelings.
My father is a farmer and we have a small area of land. He taught us to play with it from our early childhood. I still remember the days playing hide and seek with my friends my paddy field. I feel happy and swollen with pride to work on my land because the fruits of hardworking are always syrupy. Today I’m far-off native land and I’ve no land to work during my spare hours. In my home, whenever I got leisure time I involved myself in making my kitchen garden planting varieties of flowers. Our land is the only source that is funding for our family’s living.
It is the time to yield paddy in my land which I’ve planted during August before I came Bangladesh but I cannot be there. My land teaches me the lesson to use my hands for living. Because of this intimacy, tears rolled down on my cheeks when I was flying to Bangladesh .I am missing my land more than my family and wish to be there soon.