Local: My Village

This is a typical village in the state of Odisha, India.

The entrance to my village home.

 

The kuchcha roads

 

The tube-well

When I was a kid, I used to spend summer vacations at my village. I love this place. Me and my sister carried small vessels on our waist and brought water from this very tube-well. In earlier days, there were no water filters. Ground water was used for bathing and drinking.

 

The kitchen area

There was no gas cylinder or cooking stoves. Food was cooked using wood and on these make-shift clay stoves called chulhaa. And trust me on this, the food used to have an unique and amazing taste with a little smoky flavor.

This is where my father grew. This is where my mother came to her in-laws house after her marriage. This is the place which I used to visit for at least 2 months in a year. But as I grew up I couldn’t visit for even once a year. I yearn to go back to this place. This is one of the places I love. This is where my heart is.

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Call disconnected.

“But it’s your dream job,” said my grandma “Don’t miss the interview. I will manage”

“No, I won’t leave his side until he is well and moving”, said my grandpa on seeing his son down with fever.

30 years later,

“Brother please come to see father or at least send some money”, said my aunt “We need to admit him.”

“Can’t you keep him on painkillers for just two months? My daughter’s board exams are approaching. I will be there after that.”

“But her exams are in 21 days. And you are in the same city. He needs an immediate surgery or the doctors say he won’t be able to walk ever again.”

My uncle said, “Try to understand, I don’t want any sort of disturbance for her. I am sure you all will manage.”

Call disconnected.