Toys of Happiness for Nusaiyba

Hello dear friends,
I hope you all are doing well and spending a beautiful life with your loved ones. I wish you all happiness and peace.

Every day, my journey to and from the office has become a routine part of my life. The city’s noise, traffic jams, and the endless rush of people have all become normal to me. Yet, in the middle of this daily chaos, there are some small moments that bring me pure joy. One of them is watching the colorful toy stalls set up along the roadside.

Almost every day, I notice a few people selling toys on the footpath. Some sell balloons, some sell toy cars, and others display glowing, colorful plastic toys that instantly catch the eye. Many people just pass by without paying attention, but for me, these stalls hold a special meaning—because I know my little daughter, Nusaiyba, waits at home.

At home, it’s just the three of us—me, my wife, and little Nusaiyba. While I spend most of my time at the office, her mother stays busy with household work. So apart from her sleeping hours, toys are her only companions. She spends hours playing with them, talking to them, and creating her own little world. Even though she already has plenty of toys, I still can’t resist buying her a new one whenever I see something interesting.

A few days ago, while returning from the office, I noticed a man sitting on the footpath selling toys. He had spread a plastic sheet on the ground and arranged various colorful toys neatly in front of him. There were small plastic lanterns, glowing star-shaped wands, bright rubber balls, and golden bird-shaped toys with tiny lights. The whole place looked like a festival of colors!

I stopped for a moment and began looking at the toys. Each one seemed to hold a little piece of childhood joy. The small lanterns and star wands caught my attention the most. They were simple but charming—and only 20 taka each. I bought a few of them, and I could see a smile of satisfaction on the vendor’s face. Perhaps those few sales made his long day worthwhile.

When I reached home and handed the toys to Nusaiyba, her face lit up instantly. She grabbed them with her tiny hands, pressing buttons to make the lights flash, spinning the small lanterns, and laughing with excitement. That innocent smile on her face was worth more than anything in the world. In that moment, all my tiredness from the day disappeared.

I realized once again that for children, toys are not just things to play with—they are windows to their imagination. A small plastic lantern may represent a source of light and wonder to them. A glowing star wand might be a symbol of their dreams.

In today’s digital age, many children spend most of their time on mobile phones or tablets. But I want Nusaiyba to grow up surrounded by real toys—the kind she can touch, hold, and imagine with. That’s why, whenever I see a toy seller on the street, I stop and buy something for her.

Someday, when Nusaiyba grows up, these toys may become her cherished memories. But for me, these little moments—seeing her joy and laughter—are priceless. They remind me that happiness doesn’t always come from big things; sometimes it comes from a simple toy bought from a roadside stall on the way home.