AUTOBIPGRAPHY - Back to my past XXI

Now where to make the landing! Soon !- during my Matricuation exam.,approaching ,came the lightning shock that my Country was being divided includung our Bengal! At first , there were rumours and we were hoping against hope that our part of motherland, BARISAl would be saved and we were swinging on the craddle of hope and dream.As told before, 90% of our village population were muslims but we never knew Communal dis-harmony. We joined each other's festivals and ceremonies during Puja days and Muharam or Id. But now with the prospect of 'Freedom !' the picture and environment changed. Even my close muslim class- mates started talking in changed accents.....and we were practising self defense ,with 3-inch knifes and cut-out bamboo-stick.
So !, soon I lost my boyhood with the temptation of 'Freedom' and was growing up fast to face some adverseries about whom I had no clear idea. But it did not matter ;the excitement of facing some enemies of another community( who were almost our relatives,just the other day) inspired me to make bows and arrows and slings . And a long-term sick boy like me felt like a developing fighter and was always planning, with my restless mind and frail malaria -diarrhoeia infested body to meet the approaching enemies ( Like Don Quoxote about whom I read long after and I had no De La Mancha to help me ) but I was Practising very hard.
Once, in earlier time, it happened so , that I was successful in Kiling a sparow in my third or fourth aim and felt so excited and elated that I held it by its wings and ran back home and met my mother on her way back carrying water pitcher , filled up . I could not suppress my joy of such martial success and like a proud son faced her with the hope of great appreciation for my skill(like Arjuna). She put down the pitcher ,looked at the dead bird and then suddenly catching hold on my arm gave me such a hard fist-blow that this aspiring warrior instantly lost his breath, ,my spine arched back and I could only afford a painful and shrill cry. Sad ! and thus the dream of being a potential Alexander or Napolean was nipped in the bud which the growing Century must have lamented much, for the loss.