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WHEN RAINS CREATED RELATIONSHIPS...

It was August,1992.A family of Orissa were shifting homes to another city.They had to travel for two days on a bus from Angul to Koraput,a distance of nearly 800 kilometres.The couple had a 3 year old child and an infant girl undertaking this long and ardous journey.The roads were in such a state that the bus had to travel at 20 kmph for hours together.
Rains made matters even worse.But to the 3 year old,all this was fun.She had never travelled for so long.She really liked the windy paths and steep gorges.The parents were happy that the child did not throw tantrums.She also referred a young man on the bus as "mamu" meaning mother's brother in Oriya.
At a certain point,the bus came to a screeching halt.All passengers were informed that the connecting bridge to the other side of the fast-flowing stream had collapsed.They had two options-either to stay for a day or two in the nearest town of Rayagada or to cross the gushing stream to reach another bus,waiting on the other side of the stream.The father of the family at once told that they wouldn't travel further,they would go to the nearest town,which he had never seen,and resume their journey when conditions were better.His 24 year old wife looked platonic.She said,"We will cross this stream and leave this place immediately".She had a glimpse of the turbulent waters and readily taking the younger daughter in her arms,she went ahead.The husband was overawed by the guts of his "homely" wife.He stood there placing all their bags on the ground.At such a moment,the young man whom the 3 year old had called
"mamu" chipped in.He offered help in such a way that the father could not refuse.Readily he swung into action.He and the fond "mamu" brought all their bags(which consisted of almost 9 carrybags and other miscellaneous articles).The mother had by then crossed the stream midway ensuring that her baby was not touched by the rains.The husband offered her help.She took every step with caution,a single mistake meant imminent danger of life.The 3 year old was carried by her "mamu".She saw the green waters of the stream flowing mindlessly,sometimes a huge bushes and inordinately large pieces of moss being carried away.Then another problem arose.The couple had left a bag containing the keys and other such stuff on the other side of the bank.The two men again marched off and recovered the bag.Meanwhile the mother had developed fever and still,she continued to reassure her almost nervous husband.The fond "mamu" was still there in the bus and the rest of the journey was better than the harrowing experience they just had.Only the rains had not stopped.
As they reached their destination,the family wanted to thank the young man.But once there,the man mingled with the crowd.The family didn't even know his name!
My readers must be wondering what have I to do in this narrative?Well,I am that 3 year old and I was narrating a thrilling experience of my life.People with frail constituents can be brave too,this has been exemplified by the action of my mother.She really deserves kudos.One must take calculated risks to attain greater heights in life."Every dark cloud has a silver lining".Every trauma we go through gives us some moments of reassurance-God protects one and all.
I really wonder if "mamu" is reading this blog!!!!

Comments

CutePooja said…
nice story 4m d point of view of a li'l 3 yrs old...:)

hope u get 2 meet ur "mamu" sometime...may b u wont coz i gues he was an angel sent by God...
ANWESA said…
ya,i think so...thanx 4 ur comments..
Bhai with Chai said…
:) apt apt title and the post has been written so well!

//One must take calculated risks to attain greater heights in life

true, and kudos to your Mom!
ANWESA said…
Thanx bhai with chai...
Its true that sometimes ordinary people do extraordinary things.Keep reading my blog and encourage me in this manner.
Abhishek said…
I'm surprised by the memory retention power of 'this 3 year old' girl :)

nicely written
ANWESA said…
thanx Abhishek..

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I CANNOT REMEMBER MY MOTHER ~ Rabindranath Tagore

I cannot remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
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I cannot remember my mother
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temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.


I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
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has spread all over the sky.

~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.

WAITING FOR YOU

Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
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Another journey, another dry spell. 
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P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017