My Trip Into The World.

I think is safe to say I came into to this world as we all have when I was born as tiny little boy. If I am honest can’t remember much from that time. But there is things and objects I do remember. The house where I grew up. And all the grapes my father had planted in front of it. And  all them years I spent there. I like to think I was a very happy child even didn’t have toys to play with. Yeah . My parents could not afford to buy any toys for us. They struggled to put food on table. But we still played like all kids do, we still had loads of fun.  Time went fast. Soon I saw myself in school. I was a keen learner and always one of the top pupils. But i do remember breaking the rules. It was fun. You might laugh if I tell you how we were punished for breaking the rules. Sometimes we got smacked on the face. And that’s the truth but not fun. I also like to tell you we walked to go to school everyday fifteen to twenty minutes, and the same back home. I came back from school one day and remember telling my mother: mum I sang today in front of all my class mates. I was very excited because I know my mum was proud of me. In fact she was proud of all of us.


We grow up as most of kids of our generation did. What has stuck in my mind is the house where we grew up and the river who was very near with our house. In summer we would spend maybe more than three months swimming and laid on the sand. Great memories.

Soon I would see myself studying in University. The first true love and the great friendship. And the tough exams. Definitely. Oh and the fun we’d have weekends drinking cold beers and talking  in a low voice against government and it’s policies. In fact we use to make fun of them fat f….ers. Yeah we laughed so much. We were just happy.

Then the first job as a maths teacher. The passion was the word it was waking  me up every morning and it accompanied me everyday, when I was teaching. Remember all the other teachers and the  headteacher. He was called Fati. Not for fat he was thin and most he was an amazing guy and person. Because we were good friends I always would sit in his office and do the paper work. I remember once, he opening the door and saying : sorry, I thought this was my office.

Years gone by like hours. We moved away from the house were we grow up. But we do still go there sometimes. We miss that place. There is still the house and the river still goes by just like times fly. We seen and noticed  the house does need now some deep maintainance.

Now it’s been 15 years I live and work in UK. Its a bit different. Not doing teaching anymore. I remember years ago talking to my wife. I said one day I like to write the story of my life. She looked at me smiling and with sarcasm answered: yeah and tell me who is going to read your story. I felt she just smacked me across the face. She was just pointing out the harsh reality. In other words she was telling me nobody is interested to read my story as I wasnt famous or as they call now celebrity. No, i didn’t became a celebrity but I am still proud of who I am and what I have achieved in my life. I am so proud of my kids. They are the best in the world. Definitely they are the best part of my life.

I am also glad I had the chance to tell my story (in a very short version) . Mission accomplished. Well for now. Some other time I might tell you for the plans on the future days.

I only stated some facts and not sure how many people going to read it. But if you do please leave a comment. I know for lots of people this is just a random story. But it’s very special to me.

Have a great day!

One response to “My Trip Into The World.

  1. It turns out it is not necessary for a person to be famous to write a story or a even story, that others want to read 🙂 . But … born where, what kind of house, how big a family, teaching where, why moving … ???

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s