Memoirs !

Memoirs are how much candid, how much true, how much captivating, how much sensitive & how much hilarious . Yes , it is all blended together forcing to float & float around in the state of dejavu or in surreal world or both . During writing memoirs it is confusing but irresistible !

Banyan tree on the bank of river

 In the night about 12'0'clock we reached on the bank of river 'Balan' on bullock cart negotiating treacherous flash flood,accepted or rather sheltered on the big,long nariah tiled verandah of Chetto Singh, an influential landlord of the village . My father was worthy son of his village ,so commanded respect wherever he went .In the inky night & swollen Balan river a loud voice of his retainer in colloquial lingo reverberated !

                         डिप्टी साहेब ई पार, परिवार के साथ छथीन !
                         नाव ,  लई कय चैल आवो ! 
After sometime a middle size boat came with a boatman with shortened bamboo as a rudder . Me ,mother & father boarded the boat with few luggage . I was feeling drained & drowsy, did as I was told .

In the dead of night Babathan ,our ghat on the river bank , standing there, massive banyan tree with all its majestical elan .The silhoutte of its leaves & branches in the calm inky night looked ,somebody own is waiting for us to welcome home. We reached in the courtyard of our village home ,the oozing warmth of my uncle (elder brother of my father) & his wife my ' manjhli ma' greeted  us  standing with warm smile . They offered some eatables to us ,but my mother had packed enough in her long tiffin box of many containers . I was harassed & snoozing from a long time so, slid immediately into deep slumber .

    In the morning , I was on my own , making recce in Babathan observing what has changed . Babathan was unique in our village . It's massiveness,its aerial roots at different places from its branches,its main  labyrinthian roots jutting out from lower trunk in undulated form embedded in earth ,it's round shady leaves, its shadiness , it's benignant disposition , all making it most friendly tree . The peepul ,tamarind mango & other trees of same shady ilk are not as friendly as banyan . Its protruding roots were making makeshift seat to village folks whoever liked it . Village urchins of my age telling trifles in hushed tone giggling,lolling around or indulging in antics was their favorite pastime for the leisurely time pass .                             

           I had great charm for Babathan in dry weather season when river Balan shrank herself to her bed meandering in sand dunes , when looked into wider horizon providing eye feast of a real rarified field .It made a natural slope of a dusty track by village folks particularly  more by women fetching water from the river  or doing household chores  . 
 
 I with fellow boys always looked for empty track to enjoy the manageable side slope & running on it getting natural momentum of speed giggling. Many times I slid on the sloppy track dirtying my shirt ,but who cared as it propelled me under the realm of joyful ecstasy - unforgettable !This time river Balan was swollen to its brim so this privilege of running on sloppy track was not available to me .But standing under banyan tree , I saw two or three boats plying in the  swollen river with fisher man catching fishes in their net & silvery shinning of fishes in  morning sun  was treat to vision.  .  

            I was not interested in my father's short sojourn in village warming the bonhomie with co-villagers big or small or other errands which came in his mind & largely confined myself near my mother . She was surrounded by village women seated on a mat & my mother seated on a old wooden chair giving a look of 'darbar'.   They watched my mother quizzically. When trifles ,tit-bits turned in to gossip laced with sob story of their husbands sozzled by county made intoxicants not earning much or problem of marriage of their young daughters,it couldn't be predicted of its beginning . But it was more of curiosity as my mother lived in town & she was a hakim's wife . Navami of puja festival was to be celebrated .                     

     I was suggested by many of my cousins to enjoy Goddess Durga puja village festivals at Mansoor Ganj , Samsa or Kadrabad but I avoided trudging those far off places distancing itself not less then two or three miles on dusty road .Somebody suggested why not make a revered obeisance to the idol of Goddes Durga enjoying the boat ride also as  idol of Goddess  Durga rides on big singular four cornered boat from Samsa to Mansoorganj gives  'darshan' in every ghat avoiding hustling of devotees & onlookers without any fuss . Everybody accepted the suggestion wholeheartedly !  

    For  the boat ride & 'darshan' in the evening boat was arranged !


Continued..........