Whenever I see the ‘R’ symbol on the gearbox of our car, the idea that how nice it would be if ‘Our Life Had A Reverse Gear’ strikes my mind. Having come to the so called Indian Fast lane through the expressways [Golden Quadrilateral] of the Indian countryside, somewhere deep in my mind I still have those beautiful moments of my childhood rooted. Recently when I traveled to my father’s workplace [a small village in Andhra Pradesh], the fresh air that blew across the sugarcane fields into our car took me to a different world – my childhood memories. The memories of the deeds that we used to do brought back the smile on my face , I am longing for in my urban dwelling. In those times, everything was fun-be it cricket, rain, catching fishes, dragon flies, the sand sculptures, flying kites, the donga & police game [In urban jargon – hide & seek],pen games in class rooms, cycle races, counting stars, mom or aunt’s fairy tales, there is no stopping, they are bountiful.
Mahatma Gandhi once said ‘The soul of India lives in its Villages’.
Yes, life is at its quintessential best there. Where the connotations of the words ‘peace’ ‘love’ ‘benevolence’, long forgotten in the contemporary India aptly fit in.A village is a place to enjoy & feel the essence of living.As I revisit those bountiful memories, Come join me in pressing the proverbial rewind button.
While the clouds take their place, turning the blue sky dark and as our hair starts dancing to the tunes of cool breeze – we know rain is calling upon us and its party time. Ordering mom for a plate of pakoda, we would be out in the open. As the rain drops take their shape, we wait searching the blue canvas from where the first drop will roll out. As the little drops make their way, we start dancing with those, closing our eyes to the romance between the clouds [read thunders].When the rain recedes, its time for some architects work, yes the paper boats. The water gathered outside our homes is all ours [thanks to the municipality], the boats will be put on sail.
When it rains while the sun is around what happens? Yes the kindergarten way of learning colors – VIBGYOR.The Rainbow takes shape. While appreciating this beautiful god’s creation, we try to demystify the myth behind its formation. Grandma’s story about an Old woman[pedharasi peddhamma] being the reason or the complex science of Refraction??
Any small pool of water is a fishing pond for us. Cloths and vessels become part of our fishing gear. Almost every time we catch one and claim it to be a fish it turns out to be tadpole, so again back to work. If we are lucky enough, we bring the fish home incognito and put them in a bucket in our backyard, only to get scolding from mom when she finds it.
Come January (the festival of harvest) the sky is filled with canopy of diamond shaped birds, yes the Kites. I don’t know whether these little man-made birds inspired Wright Brothers but they did inspire Rajini sir [remember the famous song from chandramukhi!!].The way we prepare one is also exciting – news paper, sticks from the broom, Glue [Rice from kitchen (read stolen from Kitchen without mom notice)]. Cut the papers in the shape of a square, turn it 45 degrees, bend the stick to form a bow, glue them to the paper with the rice and that’s it. Oops!!! I forgot, ‘the tail’, the longer the tail more height it goes. Oops!! Oops!! ‘The thread’ – from mother sewing kit .Get to the top of house and start flying, until it gets into a tree or the thread grants freedom.
Pelting stones into water pools[Read the Hop Game] and counting the no. of hops stone makes on the surface of water[tryout, its very exciting!!!!]; watching film stars in the kaleidoscope; the cricket with writing pads & paper balls- the classroom becomes a playground; pulling sugarcanes from the bullock carts, only to get caught & run without turning back; sticks in the broom disappear only to appear in our hands as bow & arrows – the war begins; catching butterflies & grasshoppers;
Every moment is exhilarating & unforgettable. Everything we do is fun & frolic. Mom & dad become angry for our deeds, only to love us more once their anger dies down. I pray these moments will never become a thing of past. Every child should live these golden moments.
Oh I forgot!, My plate of pakoda…..Coming mom……