I lived in a place where the world begins with the rising sun and ends with the setting sun. A world where people smiled at one another, where people were satisfied with what they had and never wanted more than what they needed.
It was a very small village. So small it was that everyone knew each other. Our village had just two streets. All the houses were similar, except for the Big House. My father worked for the Big House.
We had to walk a distance of about 5km to reach our school; telling adventure stories, mostly concocted impromptu; we played at the fields after school; how we liked hiding our books beneath our shirts to protect them from rain! We loved using banana leaves as our umbrella! We liked the fresh aroma of the soil after the rain. The earth was our bed and sky- our blanket!
Masterji was considered the most learned man of our village. Masterji taught us math, English, about plants and planets. He would tell us stories. We all showed lot of affection and respect towards Masterji.
Father had been to the town since last week. Mother said he would bring lot of rice and vegetables and sweets from the town. And I waited everyday for him, to return.
Masterji taught us about plants outside our classroom. We had a big banyan tree in our school. We all sat under the banyan tree, while he would tell us why the leaved were green and that plants were also living beings. That day, before teaching us about fruits and vegetables, he asked each one of us to narrate what we had for breakfast. When it was my turn, I just blurted that I had onions and cabbage.
That afternoon, Masterji called me to his room. He told me that onions were not usually consumed during that time of the year and it was also not the time of year when cabbages were available. Then he called Sukumar. He was in my class and he lived in the Big House. Masterji asked him to get some extra lunch for me, from the next day, and everyday thereafter.
That evening I came home and cried. When my mother asked me why I was crying, I didn’t know the answer. But, I cried.
Thirty years later, today, I received a phone call. The voice from the other end was easily recognizable as Sukumar’s. He said, “Naveen, Masterji has left us all, today”.
And today, I cried, again!
It was a very small village. So small it was that everyone knew each other. Our village had just two streets. All the houses were similar, except for the Big House. My father worked for the Big House.
We had to walk a distance of about 5km to reach our school; telling adventure stories, mostly concocted impromptu; we played at the fields after school; how we liked hiding our books beneath our shirts to protect them from rain! We loved using banana leaves as our umbrella! We liked the fresh aroma of the soil after the rain. The earth was our bed and sky- our blanket!
Masterji was considered the most learned man of our village. Masterji taught us math, English, about plants and planets. He would tell us stories. We all showed lot of affection and respect towards Masterji.
Father had been to the town since last week. Mother said he would bring lot of rice and vegetables and sweets from the town. And I waited everyday for him, to return.
Masterji taught us about plants outside our classroom. We had a big banyan tree in our school. We all sat under the banyan tree, while he would tell us why the leaved were green and that plants were also living beings. That day, before teaching us about fruits and vegetables, he asked each one of us to narrate what we had for breakfast. When it was my turn, I just blurted that I had onions and cabbage.
That afternoon, Masterji called me to his room. He told me that onions were not usually consumed during that time of the year and it was also not the time of year when cabbages were available. Then he called Sukumar. He was in my class and he lived in the Big House. Masterji asked him to get some extra lunch for me, from the next day, and everyday thereafter.
That evening I came home and cried. When my mother asked me why I was crying, I didn’t know the answer. But, I cried.
Thirty years later, today, I received a phone call. The voice from the other end was easily recognizable as Sukumar’s. He said, “Naveen, Masterji has left us all, today”.
And today, I cried, again!
