Rooftop: Our Daily Escape

Today I am in the same house that I was moving to when I first came to Dhaka. So I can see the change in the surrounding environment. We lived on one side of the 3rd floor of our 3 storey building and we had our roof aka small yard on the other side. What am I doing on this roof like the backyard of a village house? I used to play cricket when I was young. If the ball falls, run. I had to run before anyone took it. I used to play badminton in winter. I used to sit in the sun. On a rainy day, I would go to the roof every day to steal and get wet, despite my mother's prohibition. I used to play football when the roof was in the water. I used to pour water on people's heads from above. Sometimes my younger brother and I would build a small house with polythene, corksheet, and cardboard in one corner of the roof. When it was raining, I was sitting at home enjoying the rain and suddenly I saw the roof of my head breaking and water started falling. The most beautiful summer nights. Before, when the power went out after 1 hour as per routine, everyone in the house would come and lie down on the cold bed. I would count the stars in the sky, ask my mother why the moon goes wherever I go, I would eat cold air. Since there was no building next to us then we could see everything from sunset to sunrise in the morning. Then at one point a 6-storey building on one side, a 10-storey building on the other, a 6-storey building on the other, and a 10-storey building on the other. My little world, my little roof covered the little sky with bricks and stones. I still go to the roof, sometimes I remember the previous words. Now the wind does not come like before, the setting afternoon sun cannot be seen. I can't find that joy in the rain water. Everything seems to have swallowed up this building. Each one is like a monster. The joy of my childhood has become a wall in front of me, consuming the memories.