Boju
- 14 October 2024
This year, the urge to get away from it all was even stronger. A year of living in the hot plains had made me thirsty for a pastoral getaway. Maybe it was age catching up and the greying of my hair. I was delighted to receive a warm family invitation for Dasain in the far-flung hamlet of Gorubathan.
There wasn’t much to do but decide on our departure date. A long spell of rainy weather had dampened the Puja spirit all over. But that wasn’t enough to dampen our excitement and the excitement of meeting our Bajey and Boju.
It was just three of us this year, me, my wife and little Zaydan, full of his curious eight plus years. Amazingly there was hardly any traffic on the day we left Siliguri. And we loved rolling off the names from our tongues – Salugara, Sevoke, Baghpool (Coronation Bridge), Ellenbari T.E., Wasabari T.E., Rondong, Looksaan, Oodlabari and finally Damdim. A beautiful drive, Dooars can never lose its charm for me.
Lunch was a necessity on this highway and another dhaba in the road served hot meals cooked over wood fire. We drove through Sailee T.E and finally after Meenglass T.E. we started our climb to Gorubathan.
If you have never visited these places, let me paint a picture for you. Sleepy small villages where time has stood still and on a lazy afternoon, nothing stirs- siesta for everyone. Areca nut trees (supari – gua) abound, the cash cow for the villagers.
After driving through tiny rivulets, we parked our car in a friendly house – as the road ahead was very rough and I had had a tough experience some years earlier (tough – pushing the car uphill). Then luckily we got a local taxi to ferry us to the house – city folks can’t pack light.
As we reached the house, Bajey and Boju welcomed us all with so much excitement, love and care, my entire body just relaxed and I sat for the longest time in the huge veranda outside- just admiring the flowers, listening to birds and having tea and selroti.
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Bajey and Boju have built a modern house in the middle of the huge green forested area. Flowers, plants, vegetables abound. Plus Boju has three cows – imagine Zaydan’s delight as he saw the milking of the cow for the first time.
As night fell, the forest around came alive with the sounds of its denizens. I welcomed it all, the soothing breeze, the far away murmur of Chel river, the sudden bark of a dog and the crickets in the trees.
Dinner was awesome. As Bajey and Boju are pure vegetarians, we enjoy the variety of delights that Boju cooks up. She always add a dollop of homemade ghee for us and that seals the meal.
This was just around seven in the evening. After dinner Boju offered us a warm glass of milk.
Lights off and sweet dreams.
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Next morning brought rains, lots of it. I think one of the most soothing sounds for me is the drumming of raindrops on the roof. Our plans to go out and visit the neighbourhood was cancelled. I just had to take a walk. Having been here earlier, I knew my way around and soon as the rains stopped, I started my walk.
There are no roads. Its small trails in the greenery, overgrown due to the wet season. Slippery rocks, moss covered stones marked my way. As I reached the first house, it started to rain again.
I looked around and saw an old Boju by her kitchen. I asked her if I could take shelter, she said of course. I sat down on a long wooden bench and waited. Bajey came out from inside and offered me a chair but I thanked him and said I was comfortable on the bench.
Silence, Boju and watched it rain. An old wrinkled face spoke of years of hard work, determination and endless hope. I could see a cow in the shed. She asked me where I had come from. It wasn’t difficult to connect the dots, here everyone knew everybody. I asked her if there were any other people at home as I didn’t see the hustle and bustle of Dasain.
She said all have left. Kids grown up. Settled elsewhere. Only her eldest son was with her. One son was in the army. I don’t think there is any house in the hamlet that doesn’t have someone in active service or a history of serving the nation. Our bravehearts.
I saw a papaya tree and asked if I could take one, she said please pick it and take it. There wasn’t any question of trade here, it was just plain simple basic human kindness. She asked me if I had eaten. I said yes and then she offered me a sweet lemon, she had been gifted by her relative and she wanted me to have it. It was very sweet I finished it right before her eyes.
Well, since I grew up in Kalimpong, I asked her about ginger and turmeric as I had seen the plants in her garden. With a weary voice, she told me that she planted 200 kgs of ginger in the previous year- all the entire crop didn’t yield. This year she could afford to plant only about 3 kgs but they were growing healthily. With her wizened hand she showed me the places where she had planted the spices.
I asked her about the monkey menace as I had been hearing how they routinely raided all the gardens and destroyed the fruits. She laughed and said I had been lucky to get the papaya as she had covered the fruits with a sack.
All this while, Bajey was inside. Boju complained that he spent the entire day on his phone! I could hear Bajey’s retort from inside –“Then what else to do?”
Silence. The rain lessened. Water dripped from the trees and the eaves. I looked around and thought of my childhood, all the kitchen garden stuff with my grandmother and my mother. If I can make out the difference between a ginger and turmeric plant, the fluctuation in the prices, the brutal hard work it takes to till the soil- it’s all because of my mother and grandmother. I am grateful.
If I can just teach my children the patience to plant, care and watch something grow, it will be passing down the civilizational bridge to them. Today, not only do I appreciate the toil and patience of the farmers but also feel lost to see the younger generation leave their lands and flee to the concrete jungles.
I went and picked the papaya. Green. Would make a lovely salad. She then gently chided me by saying I was somebody’s guest and should spend time talking to them. I bowed to her and thanked her. I bid mobile Bajey – ever smiling – goodbye.
As I walked back home, I prayed for all bojus who plant the rock of civilization, the eternal hope of the generation, the determination to start again and the patience to nuture life.
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