183. Celebrations

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 33; the thirty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'Celebrations'

They were coming one by one.

Everybody tried to hide the anxiety. However, the process of hiding revealed their emotions more than they themselves would have expected.

“Everybody here?” asked Nanda, knowing that one was still missing.

“Wait for Bachchan, see he is there, waiting for the signal,” Haveli pleaded.

They all waited for Bachchan – a five year boy.

Bachchan came running to them with great joy.

“Let us go behind the school, there would be nobody,” Khan gave a sort of order and everybody followed.

They were all smiles and walked silently behind the big building everybody called school. Many children came to that building every day. However, today the building carried a deserted look.

They huddled together, the taller pulling the shorter, the elders holding hands of youngsters. Everybody had something in one hand and they were trying to hide it from others.

“Ok, now all close eyes.” Nanda  said.

“I won’t” protested Kandya.

Khan put his right hand on Kandya’s head. “Nobody will take your treasure,” said Khan and everybody laughed loudly.

“I will say Ram, Seeta, Hanuman three times. Until then everybody keeps eyes closed. Third time when I say Hanuman, we open our hands and show our gifts to all ….” Nanda was the Didi of the group.

They all waited. Nanda gave the instructions. They opened their eyes and showed their treasure to others.

Nanda had a half torn box with three pieces of Laddu. Khan had found some crackers. Haveli had a box of Chiwda. Bachchan was luckier – he had received a ten rupee note. Kandya was amused by his gift – a packet of wafers with only two pieces in it.  Nani had received Bakarwadi. They enthusiastically watched all the gifts.

“Let us celebrate”, said Bachchan and everybody laughed. They ate whatever was available.

“What next?” asked Mintu.

“Now, we will move to that bigger signal, where more than four roads join and there are more cars on that road. Only people in car give gifts, remember,” Khan shared his experience.

“So, we will celebrate again?” Bachchan asked with all innocence.

“Boy, for one week, we will continue to celebrate, don’t worry,” Nanda assured him.

They moved towards the next signal.

The kids ignored and deserted by their parents, harassed by the police, snubbed by the car owners….

The kids half hungry, abused physically and verbally…

The kids with torn clothes and without bath for days …

The kids fighting with each other to catch attention of the commuters on the road…

They too celebrate Deepavalee ….in their own way.

The celebrations will continue for a while.

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178. Innocent

" Wai Wai? or Momo? What would you prefer, Madam? " my colleague asked me.

Momo, I know. I like Momo. After coming to Delhi I have been consuming them regularly. However at that moment  I did not want Momo only because yesterday afternoon and yesterday evening I had already tested Momo in this part of the county. So, I asked what is Wai Wai? And realized that they are kind of noodles.

I was in the village Sikkp in Namchi area of (South Sikkim district) in Sikkim. My local colleagues were with me. In the morning I had climbed up and down the hills in village Wok and had used lot more calories, so I was hungry. But here there were only two options - Wai Wai and Momo.

I decided to have Wai Wai and it was filling. But my colleagues were still hungry and were planning to order Momo and Soup. Instead of waiting for them to finish their food, I decided to use this time to walk around and take some pictures. Because of my presence my colleagues were not able to freely converse in Nepali so they gladly accepted my plan.

I came outside and noticed the beautiful river flowing to my left. While going to Wok village I had asked about the river and was told that the name of the river is Rangeet (which literally means colorful or colored). This is a tributary of Teesta river - the lifeline of Sikkim. About Teesta river, there is a lot to tell - but not today. I was planning to climb down to the river and enter into the water - just stand in the water for few minutes. But then I realized that the water was too deep and was moving very fast. I also realized that there was no path to climb down and that during the last three days I have not seen anybody near the waters. The river is flowing with flurry - so better to keep away from her!

To my left there was a bridge. In Sikkim one comes across these bridges very often. I can imagine that when these bridges were not built, how the villages would remain cut off from the rest of the world for days. These bridges appear to be old and one wonders whether they are strong enough! But these bridges are very strong. They play a major role in connecting villages and in turn connecting people with each other. They carry the burden of the vehicles and make living of people a little less hazardous during monsoon and winter. 

.

I was adjusting my  camera when I saw both of them chatting together. They were standing in the middle of the bridge in a relaxed manner. Initially they were little worried about the camera in my hands. However, I believe that was the reason they wanted to interact with me. They started staring at me. I leisurely walked towards them. That increased their curiosity. I could understand that both of them were in two minds - whether to smile at me or not. I took the initiative and smiled.

"Can I take your photograph?" I asked in Hindi. One of them smiled signaling me his permission and was immediately ready to pose. The other was bit hesitant though. "Can't you speak Nepali?" he asked me expressing his distrust. I said, "No, I can't." He started thinking on my response. But the first one did not want to lose the opportunity to get photographed. He just made his friend quiet.

I took a photograph and showed it to them. Both of them were delighted.
"Are you alone?" one of them asked.
"No, I am not alone. My colleagues taking lunch, I finished with it and so came outside to take some pictures," I explained. 

"Why are you taking food in the hotel? Is your home here?" the first one asked again.
"No, my home is not here," I answered.
"Then where is it?" another question.
"It is in Delhi," I inform.
"Oh! That is the reason you cannot speak Nepali", the first boy who was still doubting me seemed to be little convinced. 

"Where have you come? To whom did you meet?" he asked.
I indicated the office where I had been.
"Ok, I know that office. You met the officer there?," another question.
"Yes," I answered without explaining more.
"Where will you go now?" one more question.
"Namachi", I answered again.
"Which car is yours? The Jeep or the White one behind?" he asked. I was impressed with his observation power. I answered that too.

Then I decided to ask few questions to them. Though the children looked very young, they were studying in fifth class. We had an interesting conversation about their school, Nepali language, mid day meal in the school, their teachers, hostel and the students in the hostel ...

"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Watching the water level" both of them answered together. 

Then there was another round of conversation- this time about the river. The name of the river is Rangeet, there is a dam on the other side, the water level increases during day and reduces in the night because it rains more in the night. They can swim but nobody swims in the river during rainy season.

I asked about fish. One of them explained, "There are no fish now. Like flowers they too are seasonal. This is not the season for fish..." he was patiently trying to explain. 

Suddenly they shouted at me, "Run fast. Your car is leaving. It will go without you..." They were able to see the car though I was not. I knew that the car won't leave me but I was touched by the concern the kids expressed about me.

"The car will pick me up. It will pass this bridge, won't it?" I tried to assure the boys.
"Namachi is not in this direction. It is on the other road...." the kids almost pushed me towards the car.

In the cities we are taught to act with purpose, taught 'not to befriend strangers'; taught to guard our privacy; in short we are taught to distrust people around us. Of course I agree that the changing situation has provided  a solid context to such behavior and attitude. 

However these kids talked to me for half an hour, they showed trust in me, they had a concern for me, they understood my limitations - I am touched by their action, 

Whenever I will remember the roaring waters of Rangeet, the green Himalayan range I will also remember this innocent conversation with these two young boys. 

**