Time that has crossed by.......
My father was the first hero in my life: A man of very distinctive personality, both in appearance and in nature. He was a great connoisseur of not only academic life but also all sorts of creativity like music sports and game (for girls also) which was quite time ahead for him . He was frequently transferred due to his job in Railway service ; so we had opportunity to travel many new places and people . He was a joyful person .His loud lough. created fountain of joy and add extra-flavor in life to any gathering or festival.
His progressive attitude of western outlook along with blind faith in spirituality and Hindu religion blended together harmoniously made our family adorable in the neighborhood, in the town ,whether it was a small insignificant place or commercially // politically significant town.
He had excellent capability of organizing. In his young age he was transferred to Vurkunda, situated in Palamou district of Bihar. Palamou was famous for its scenic beauty: high hills, green forest, timber, farming of honey and country-liquor made of 'mou' fruit-plants along with wild animals like fox wolf and snakes; the native villagers were 'santals', mostly farmers and cattle owners.
There was neither any school( even elementary) nor hospital nor grocery shop .But perhaps geographical strategy was discovered as great prospectus; so the railway station became important. My father stayed here for only 1 year. He was the first to introduce there not only picnic and cultural function; but the greatest festival of Bengal, Durga Puja, Kali puja along with just start-up -sports Club ,Book-Club with the small railway stuffs. The Railway neighbors exchanged books and magazines (which came to be known book-club) among themselves.
I was then about four years.I remember my father used to play badminton (perhaps in winter)and then telequate (Ring) from February /March for windy weather . My father arranged the badminton court ,bats,net , feather-cork, Ring. Great pleasure of me and my brother was to pick up the cork when it dropped on the ground.;So we waited outside the court eagerly for dropped-cork . Every time we two counted who scored more to 'pick up'! we treasured the discarded corks to play in our time with two pieces of hard-cover torn from the old and used hand-writing copies as bats.
In the summer evening this badminton group used to play cards(either Breeze or Twenty-nine) in the frontside veranda under open sky until the call for dinner came up.It was 1948/49.. They played in the hurricane light ;because there was no electricity even in the railway station. I enjoyed the elders' playing because I could stay outside under the sky even after the late evening .
But soon the fun of evening game was stopped Because a calf was taken by a tiger (or wolf) from our close neighborhood,- less than half mile away. It happened repeatedly 2/3 times. The panic rosed higher when one of the 2/3 years old kid from the group of playing kids was taken away by the tiger in the early evening .We heard the noise of screaming mother along with the other women and men and kids .
My father with the railway stuff went with log and torch in hand on the spot where 8/9 families lived in huts with their goats ,cattle ,hen ,duck etc. My father took decision that from next day four people by turn would guard the neighbourhood by beating tin and drum to make the neighbors alert and the tiger afraid Both. Also there was arrangement to burn fire surrounding the huts.
All of them accepted the decision . No incidents happened during our short time stay in that area after it. But we all kids used to enter inside the house from the play field before the darkness of the evening set in. Both front door and backdoor were closed right at the evening without fail.
I don't remember whether my elder brothers had any study time at the evening . There were only two bedrooms with L-shaped long covered -veranda which included the kitchen at the end point .
From the kitchen window I loved to see how the green hills at day-time would turn dark black but at the base there were lots of bright flame like Dewali and occasionally the sound of beating tin and drum along the fade sound of tribal song with the flute . I longed strongly to go there . I asked ,
"Ma, will you take me to the hill? I wish to see the opposite side of the hill; I think they had some festival : drum ,flame , vocal music and also flute."
Ma: It is more than two miles.We cannot cross that hill, it is quite high for the elderly also."
"Ma, who has done that fire works like flame of bright candles ?"
Ma: There are many small villages at the basement of the hill ; It is not festival at all. The fire, noise of drum keep the tiger away . when tiger comes within close distance they give a stinky smell ; instantly they beat the tin loudly to alert and awake the neighbors."
. In the backside courtyard surrounded by concrete wall , two/three folding cots were spread where we lay after dinner in the early night to enjoy cool air in summer. .Only father's cot was covered with a white sheet and pillow, side pillow .I shared the cot with father and learnt a lot lessons orally from father . My elder brothers always avoided my father in fear.
After listening the tiger's story in our neighborhood ,I could not shut my eyes for a moment .I kept my eyes surveying the wall of backyard.
With choaked breathing and pounding heart remained thinking,
"what should I do if a tiger comes by jumping over the wall?" I waited when my father would order,
"hey all get up!, our body is enough cool now let us go inside ."I would breath sigh of relief."
But used I used to like gazing at the sky with moon and stars and floating clouds , mysterious shooting stars before the story of tiger haunted me.
******************************************************************************************
No comments:
Post a Comment