My Village

There is something about my village which keeps me bonded to it even when I have travelled thousands of miles away. Maybe it is the simplicity, the humbleness, the beauty of being natural. As if it is a close friend of nature and depended on it for every little help. Though now things are little different, the man made technology has invaded its way through it. Back when I was a kid, there were no electricity and I liked the darkness. It was a bliss for us, as you get to cuddle around your grandparent's cot and listen to stories under the dimly lit lantern. In those days it was the 'Cocka-doodle-doo' of a rooster that woke you up in the morning or rather dawn instead of the fancy jingle of the mobile alarm.The morning breeze blew the fresh fragrance of the earth.The Neem tree provided the required brush and the well or the pond had its store of water for us. We lived in a small town not far from our village and mostly visited it during our school holidays.Basically a festive mood prevailed all around. Ours being a big joint family, at any-time there would be more than twenty people living together, chit-chatting, laughing, playing, or doing something or the other.It had twice as many domestic animals as people in the house. They included, cows, buffaloes, goats, sheep, hens and ducks along with their families of chicks and ducklings.We had a huge kitchen garden which was always loaded with different kind of vegetables through out the year. For breakfast, I often plucked some brijals (Aubergine) and burnt them on the mud oven lit by firewood from the forest. It would make a great dish when mixed with popped rice which my aunt often made in huge quantity and stored aside.(Remembering her gets tears in my eyes as I won't be able to see her again, just few days back she passed away).