I had a secret collection of Russian dolls during my childhood. What started as a mere gift from my grandfather changed into a hobby which I passionately pursued.
I kept the dolls in a secret place back at home. My grandfather had built a study room for himself in our old house. While building it, he realized that there remained a small area behind the room.
He thought of creating an enclosure behind the study room to be used as an attic. However, the doors which lead to that room was so narrowly concealed between the two book shelves in the study room that the attic remained aloof. My grandfather called it the secret place and had told only my brother and me about it.
The Secret Place Which Housed the Secret Collection:
The reading room is a small, cozy room with a big teakwood desk, a table lamp, two huge bookshelves and a fireplace. It is the only place in the entire house which is cut off from the voices of the family members. This room once belonged to my grandfather who used to be an avid reader. Amidst the book shelves lies the entry to the secret place. I and my brother had neatly maintained the secret place.
It was very small in size and the ceiling was low. There was a small bed and a shelf. We had plastered posters to the gloomy walls of the room and had neatly stacked the shelf with my collection of Russian dolls. We always used to sneak into this room during the weekends.
My secret collection of Russian dolls was only known to my brother who was also very fond of the same. There were about 300 different kinds of dolls that I had collected over a span of six years. They ranged from the smallest sizes to sizes of about a foot. They came in different colours and looked very attractive. As much as I wanted to show my collection to people, I kept it secret for some reason. This secret collection that I owned was accumulated from many sources like my friends, their fathers, my uncle, my teacher etc.
I once remember how accidentally a doll slipped out of my hand and fell on the ground, cracking a side of its head. I had almost shrieked in shock. On another instance, I remember how a snake had crawled into the secret room from our backyard and had very comfortably placed itself between two large dolls on the lowest shelf. My brother had almost fainted screaming when he noticed the same while cleaning the room.
The secret collection and the secret room still remain a secret. No one else in the family knows about it except my brother and me. The secret room however remains abandoned these days. The dolls have turned old and the shelves have become rusty. The only time the room is opened is when I visit the house. But even after so many days, when I visit that room, a lot of memories flood my mind.