Three seasons of my childhood

It is 5 O’clock in the morning.  An auto rickshaw is standing right in front of my apartment as if he knew my timing. I am going from Mumbai to Nagpur by air. I still remember my excitements when I took my first flight from Lucknow to Mumbai in 2010 after joining Mahindra. Inside the plane I removed my camera to take some pictures of the early sun rising while I am flying. I took the picture of the dazzling wing of the plane under the sun. From my window I saw the sun rising from the distance horizon when I was flying like a kite in the open sky. The warmth of the sun gave me comfort from the cooling air conditioner of the plane. The rays fall on my face and I closed my eyes...

The Winter

The morning sun has just started to fall the rays on us in the chilly winter morning. I and my sister would be reading in the ‘khala’ (a place where harvested rice would be kept for threshing). It is our winter holidays now. We call it “Dhana kata chhuti” (Holiday to harvest rice).It would be a 15 day holiday after the half yearly exam. My grandfather would be walking behind two bullocks while they are walking on the piled up rice plants and eating some of it. Maa would come with milk and roti for us to eat there. We will finish our study at 9 O’clock when the radiant heat would be scorching enough to let us send inside home. My father and grandfather would have gone to the field by now. I will take a nice bath then I will take the food prepared by Maa to the field for my father and grandfather and go to field. I would never know the way to our rice fields. My mother would just give me the directions. After walking past the village pond, the closed school, the small jungle of Eucalyptus trees, the village play ground where all the cows will be resting now... I would enter to the rice fields, the total golden yellow colour rice fields. The smell of ripe rice crop is there all around the atmosphere. The plants would be swinging from one side to the other with the small breeze. This would chill my body from inside. There would be still water remaining in the small farms and the cranes will be searching fish and other eatables from the water stagnant areas. From the distance I would see that my father and grandfather would be standing there in the field. I would reach there and offer the food. I will eat there along with them. I always feel the taste of food in the rice field will be much better than the food in the home. I would watch the women cutting the rice plants through the day. When it will become evening they start carrying back the rice bundle to home. I father would also carry 2 bundles in a wooden bar called ‘bhara’. I would request him to carry two small bundles. He would make me 2 small bundles with a small stick and come back to home. All the villagers would be returning back with their rice bundles back to home when the sun will be setting in the west. It would be almost dark when we reach home.  I will be tired walking throughout the day and sleep immediately after some time. My mother would be waking me up after 1 hour for the dinner. She would feed me. I will eat the whole dinner without even opening the eyes.

The Summer 

The school has started again. The teacher would ask us to write an essay on the ‘dhana katta chhuti’. Everybody would write their experience about the holiday. I would be given the highest mark in the class whatever I write, because I am the topper of the class in that small school. I was the favourite student of the all the teachers. My mother would encourage me saying “My son remembers everything reading it once” I would feel as if I am like Vivekananda or something. But the school was the only school in nearby three four villages. Children from distance of 5-6 km would come there to read by walking.  When you are in school you never know how fast the time goes away. Playing, singing, fighting... It is exam time again. The final exams to promote to the next standard. My mother would wake me up in the early morning to read for the exams. I am more excited about the summer holidays than the exams now. In the last day of exam I would just write everything and give the paper as soon as possible to the invigilator and come back from the class. I would gallop like a horse to the home. I would run to the field and waiting for the others to come to play. It will be 2 months holiday now. The summer holidays!!!

The mango trees are full of mangoes now. The small mangoes in the tall trees. I was not good at aiming the mangoes by a stone or stick; I do the work of picking them up when others hit them down from the trees. I would get my share for collecting them. I would be roaming all around the village in the hard summer. There is only playing, playing and playing all the time. We would go to an old under construction house at the end of the village. There is an empty drum where I will sit and my sister would run me down. We will repeat the story with each other for a lot of time and return in the evening to play again in front of the home. Every child in the locality would be playing in the sand in front of the house. Yes! Sand. The the river of water which flows right in between the street carries a lot of sand along with its muddy water from the nearby Jungle. The sands are deposited there in front of everyone’s house. We will play with the sands and pebbles there till evening sets in. Our feet will be covered with a layer of dust. We would come and stand before Maa to clean us. Maa cleans us with cold water while scolding us. There would be a rope bed in the portico. After the evening snacks we would sleep on the lap of our grandfather seeing the stars above the sky. I would ask grandfather the half chewed paan from his mouth to eat. He will give it to me. I will happily eat it and listen to his stories about Ramayan and Mahabharat. We will sleep there only after the dinner and Maa will take us home from there.

Sometimes there would be storm in the summer, which will make the mangoes fall from the trees. The children would run to the “Amba tota” (Mango garden) right after the rain to pick up mangoes. But we would  be eagerly waiting for most important festival of our summer holidays, “Raja”. There will be festival all around, a lot of rope swings and wooden swings will be built around the village for the children to play. My grandfather would make me a personal swing by a rope in the house, for which me and my sister would always be quarrelling to occupy. There will be a custom that no woman would bring water during the three days of the Raja. They would carry water the day before the Raja and accumulate for three days consumption. There would be  new clothes for everyone, mutton curry, pitha, Kheer to eat. The annual sports for the villagers would happen in the ‘Raja’. The women would have blowing the conch shell race, children would have gunny bag race. But the most attractive race to which everyone would be waiting would be the men’s cycle race. People from different villages would come to our village to participate in that race. It will be a show of mightiness before the village. The cycle is there daily partner for doing the daily business, but today is the race! The participant will prepare their cycle by servicing it and removing the add-ons to make it lighter. The winner will get a goat as prize. In the evening there will be drama played by the village guys.  Like this the festival ends and so our holidays. 

The Rain

The thirst of the earth will be cooled down by the early drop of rains right after the Raja. This sends a message to everybody. Now everyone will be busy again in farm preparation again. It is rainy season now. We would go to the school along the muddy water. The stomach of the pond, river and well would be full now. It is like the happy earth wears itself beautiful green Saree. The water flows in front of the house. Children will be busy playing with the paper boats. There would be small fish and wild mushrooms from the jungle to eat. Children would be playing inside the muddy water of the river doing summersault and hide and seek. Sometimes there would be a dead body come floating in the river. I would not go to the river for next some days. After two months there would be Laxmi Puja nearby my village. The Jatra party from long way would come there to play the dramas during that period for 7 days.  There will be shops of sweets, toys, the Ram Jhulas to play. My father is a great fan of the Jatra plays. People from many surrounding villages would come there to watch the plays.  

My eyes open; I saw the buildings and towers moving fast outside my window. The air hostess is announcing that ”we have landed in Bhimrao Ambedkar international airport in Nagpur, hope you have enjoyed the journey”. A smile comes to my face. It was a nostalgic childhood indeed. Working in metropolitan city like Mumbai makes me proud at the same time sometime I miss the village life. But the rapid industrialisation in the village now saddens me. Now ten thousands of truck rambles down the village everyday taking the iron ore to sell it to china. There is a concrete road now instead of the sandy road in front of my house. Children do not prefer to play there anymore. Farming has almost stopped now. People prefer to join in the transportation business to carry iron ore. There is much more money in the transportation than doing farming.  With the arrival of shinning India we are missing the charm of the village life which was earlier during the childhood.

chandan