My memories of a magical tex courier metropolis of the world

I little - a small mountain village - became a large mountain - was in the house ... many years of childhood and youth. And now a big city, a big - a small suburb - live in the house. Here I have my memories, and around in an endless tex courier race of people running fast.
My memories of a magical tex courier metropolis of the world's children stories - stories seem similar. When I tell them that I would go to school with homemade cloth bag so they would not believe. Gacni fresh bag in one hand and the other hand was a shingle script. We go all the way to dangle the shingle. We had a song of shingle, which is some fuckin Hindi translation - 'Ftty - Ftty be dried, wither thou Khusian LA, pen writing I do, do not beat Master Gee. "We Multani clay or wood shingle Gacni the Giskr drying out, then dipped in ink pen made of bamboo tex courier - Shingle immersed write on. Public schools facilities were non-existent in those days. We would sit on the floor to spread sackcloth sackcloth, sit in the absence of soil. City kids do not believe these things. They are nothing more than a story. This story is interesting to look at them. Two and a half kilometers from home was the way to school. Short and high - low, ran through the cobblestone streets. Walking tex courier cursorily way when it gets fixed, did not realize. And along the way are all sorts of workout. So there seems to be a race among children up for jogging. When you climb trees stretching. Way was like a track meet, sleep tended tracking. It was a river on the way to school. The shore of the river, where the water was shallow, often we become people swimming pool. I have the same natural swimming pool extremities learned tex courier to kill. All the children were all fit. Falls far as I remember, at school - half of child obesity