A river flowed by

My ancestral homes are situated on both banks of damodar river. One in burdwan, the one in which I lived till 7^th august 2007 and the second one in the opposite side of damodar, where our ancestors lived for centuries. Our old, almost ruined home is there. Every year Durgapuja is held there with a huge gathering. Apart from that Kalipuja is held with a small gathering and every other puja is performed in the temples created by my ancestors.

 

Damodar is most probably one of the most attractive rivers in India, it’s a very wide river, but maximum proportion of the river bed is sand, with small streams of water running through them. Crystal clear water, sometimes just wetting your feet and sometimes upto throat or may be more.  We were terrorized by elders and villagers that there are shifting sands and other scary things so we never ventured much.

 

I personally believe that most probably sometimes the sand banks gave away beneath the feet of a non swimmer plunging him into very deep water without any chances of getting out. We have seen those sand banks without water, they are sometimes very high, fifteen or twenty feet, may be more. And just like any other sand sculpture they are always ready to crumble.

 

I have spent a lot of time in the companionship of this river. One of my favourite hobbies was to wake up before dawn and take the longest possible route to the river bridge, watch the sunrise there and return home.

 

During the durgapujas I used to spend a lot of time having fun on its banks with my nephew and nieces. Splashing in the water and playing with the sand. Or just sitting there and talking for hours. Watching the river and enjoying its serene beauty.

A neem tree

How many of you have had a huge neem tree in your garden? We had one, in our courtyard; I think it was older than me. I recollect seeing it when I have visited my home as a small baby. Then childhood memories are quite tricky, but its trunk was massive so it might have been older than me. It was chopped down by the same troll, the greatest troll I have ever met in my lifetime and am not very keen to meet another or him again.

 

Neem trees are really beautiful, a little messy because they shed leaves but they compensate by wonderfully fragrant flowers. I love the fragrance of neem flowers and they look very beautiful too. I used to put the branches in flower vase after storm, they stayed fresh for a day or two, without fragrance though.. only the beauty.

 

The branches of this tree touched our roof, and created a wonderful hiding place for me, I used to climb down on a wide parapet with a book, or walkman and sit there for hours. I could see the surrounding from the cover of the leaves but was only partially visible to others. It gave a sense of disappearance in the crowd.

 

There were lots of squirrels on that tree; it also invited parrots and other birds with its ripe fruits. Parrots and koyals used to come and eat those bitter sweet fruits, my siblings also relished them, I tried a couple of times but did not love them much. I preferred the flowers and the tree itself.

 

We used to climb it a lot before a creeper completely covered it, that creeper had thorns, so we were deprived of that joy thereafter.

 

When a tree is standing in your garden for years it becomes like a living being, someone you know, I wonder why trolls don’t feel the same way. These people have an inborn hatred for every thing beautiful I believe, and its really painful to live around them.