Manha opened her eyes to a morning that felt brighter than usual. Though it was an ordinary day of the summer vacation, a powerful urge inside her nudged her to experience something unique: an outright detox from all digital screens and a break from mindless scrolling.
She glanced around her bedroom, noticing smartphones, tablets and gaming gadgets scattered all around.
“Today, I will not use any of these. Not even for a second. That is a promise to myself,” she whispered.
Her younger brother, Ammar, looked at her in disbelief. “No cartoons? No video games? No YouTube?” he asked.
“Nope,” Manha replied with delight. “Come on, Ammar! Today, we’ll play like kids did before these digital devices came into our lives.”
At first, Ammar wasn’t sure. He fidgeted, thumped his feet and let out a heavy sigh. But Manha seized his hand and dragged him outside. The sun glowed warmly and a soft breeze made the trees sway as if they were dancing.
“Let’s build a fort!” Manha said, gathering worn blankets, chairs and pillows. They began constructing a tiny fort, giggling whenever it collapsed. In their imagination, they were explorers discovering hidden treasure inside it.
Next, they chased each other with water balloons, trying to dodge one another’s attacks. Manha stumbled and fell, and Ammar burst out laughing.
After that, they roamed around the lane outside their house. Manha suggested playing hopscotch, using chalk she had found in her school bag. They dared one another, both shouting, “I win! I win!” and laughing whenever one of them lost balance. Soon, a group of neighbourhood children joined them and the quiet street turned into a lively playground, filled with running, shouting and laughter.
Later, a few children carefully climbed the tall mango tree to pick ripe mangoes. They then settled under its shady branches, happily eating the fruit and sharing stories. The younger children listened eagerly, imagining every twist and turn. Time seemed to slow down and no one felt the urge to reach for a digital device.
As the sun dipped low, Manha let out a sigh of contentment. It had been a day without videos or games, filled instead with fun, imagination, laughter and the joy of togetherness.
“This is much better than any cartoon,” she whispered to Ammar, who nodded in agreement.
That night, as they fell asleep tired yet happy, Manha realised something important: they didn’t need to wait for a special day or a grand occasion.
Even an ordinary day can become the happiest one. What truly matters is stepping outside, being creative, appreciating the little things and living in the present moment. And that day, they had lived every moment to the fullest.
Published in Dawn, Young World, December 20th, 2025
