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First day of January is the day that I would never forget. Everything that happened on that day will always stay vivid in my memory. It all started with a Sunday morning. Unlike usual, that day, I woke up with a bright smile on my face. As soon as I opened my eyes, my sight immediately looked at the side of the grey cupboard at the corner of my room where I hung the calendar. I was so happy when I saw the calendar and the day of first January had finally arrived.

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The shoreline was hardly ten feet away, but the sands were getting washed quickly by the under-current, and it was hard to get a grip please click for source stand up. A minute before we were all laughing and jumping in the waist-deep water, every time a wave was breaking down, until a bigger one, probably a foot higher, made one of us lose their foothold.

All of sudden Persohal of us fell into the water, as we were holding to each other. And back then, none of us Independnce how to swim. But somehow, after getting swept to and fro with a few subsequent waves experiencing the longest choking time in my life, finally, I managed to get up and plunge myself into the golden-yellow sand of Puri seabeach. Then I saw my wife and brother, they were already out of the water and were breathing fast, bending down with hands over the knees and looking towards me, pale and vacant.

My parents and in-laws all surrounded us with two more nulias lifeguards from the local community standing back of that cordon. A day before, when we reached Puri after a hour journey sitting on a chair car of a superfast express six hours late from its scheduled arrival time, our bad luck continued when we found Personal Narrative My Independence Day the small beach town of Puri was full of devotees crowding every little corner. We had to walk to the main road pulling our heavy trolleys over the platform and the empty parking. The first auto-rickshaw we found after walking for nearly a kilometre, the driver asked for a fare that was three times than the usual amount. The second auto driver did not even bother to look back. Finally, we managed to Personal Narrative My Independence Day the third auto-rickshaw when the driver agreed to a double fare, Narratvie we asked him to take us to any decent hotel near the beach.

He told us that we would not get any hotel near the beach as it was Karka Sankranti Day and he would take us to a good hotel Narrattive Chakratirtha Road. Puri is a popular beach holiday destination in the state of Odisha in the eastern part of India.

Personal Narrative My Independence Day

And for many Bengali, it is like a second home. Unlike me who travelled to Puri two times until now, many Bengalis like to Personal Narrative My Independence Day to Puri at least once a year. And often there are days like this when finding accommodation can be a herculean task. This was my second trip to Puri.

The first time I went there 17 years back when I was a six grade student. Our team was comparatively larger, consisting of nine members from two families. We stayed in a budget guesthouse with self-cooking facilities. It was on the backside of a top-rated 3-star hotel click Puri in those days.

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Only a narrow strip of the sea was visible from the four feet by three feet balcony of our guesthouse. Every morning, we went to the sea before sunrise and spent an hour or two collecting clamshells and crowding around a fishing boat every time one anchored to the shore.

Personal Narrative My Independence Day

After that, we had our breakfast back in the guesthouse and returned to the beach hours later for bathing. My brother and I sat near the shoreline between our mother and grandmother, tightly grasping their sarees, while my father used to swim a little far ahead.

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We sat turning our back to the waves, facing the beach, keeping an eye over the slippers covered with two bath towels. When I stood up, the first thing that I used to check immediately was the two pockets of my half-pant that became full of sand. And I used to reverse them to get all Personal Narrative My Independence Day sand out. Yet there was enough sand remaining inside to empty it along with the whole distance while we returned to our guesthouse from the seabeach walking barefoot, carrying the slippers in one hand.

It was the same routine for all four days we stayed in Puri. Even after returning home, the dry sand used to come out of those pockets for a few days and used to remind me of the wonderful time we had back there.

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So, after 17 years, when Jayeeta and I decided to take our parents to Puri, I shared my childhood memories with her. Jayeeta never went to Puri before, so she was very excited about this trip. We decided to stay in that same 3-star hotel which was right in front of our guesthouse during my last trip but thought of booking it on-spot.]

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