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Faint Memories Of Visiting My Motherland

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Faint memories of visiting my motherland linger in my thoughts and dreams. My visit to Bangladesh was filled with celebrations, feasts, adventures, and treacherous journeys! Many of these memories have been forgotten for several years. Faces and locations lost in my head. Yet, it was on one of these perilous journeys that I had discovered a treasure so grand, that it has been embedded in my thoughts ever since. A treasure so grand that it couldn’t be found anywhere else. A treasure so valuable that it could never be taken elsewhere to be cherished forever.
My breath was frozen in the air as a dead silence surrounded me. A light fog covered the muddy trail since I began my hike. The drizzling rain only added to the gloomy and haggard feeling. My boots were pressed against the ground, slowly sinking into the damp earth. The faint knocking of bamboo could be heard growing louder. Someone or something was approaching me. Being the curious and careless child I was, I left the trail to approach the patch of bamboo. The rugged terrain of the trail pulled at my sore feet, and the wind whistled and whispered in my ears, as it was warning me not to leave. But, I continued to trudge forward into the unknown. The bamboo was bendy enough for my weak arms to push as I approached the knocking noise. Slowly I took cautious steps to avoid the broken and fallen pieces of bamboo scattered across the ground. As I was about to take my next step, a person’s foot came slamming down into the ground! I stumbled backward, crashing onto the ground! Suddenly, a figure broke through the cluster of bamboo.
As I looked up, out stepped a figure familiar to me. It was my father! His confusion expression became that of relief as he helped up from the ground. He told me to follow him back to the trail he was on. My dad and I cut through the stalks of bamboo once again until we reached a trail similar to previous. We continued to follow the trail was a maze of lush greenery and foliage. The trail twisted and curved. It was unknown to me, yet so familiar to my dad, I thought as I continued hiking in amazement. Trees towered over us as the skyscrapers in the city would. The trees were castles of wood protecting a hidden treasure. Flowers and

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