Monday, August 07, 2006
Rain Rain go away
‘Rain Rain go away, come again another day’.
The following is the unfinished article I have written last Sunday i.e. 30.07.06, but could not finish as I had to go out of station. After that lot of water has flown down Godavari and Indravati, the mood of my writing must have changed. Hence first I am giving the matter written earlier which will give you clear sign of my mood in one week.
After a long time I am experiencing rain as I used to in my childhood. Rain has some special place for me in my heart. I know to a city dweller rain is the cause for most inconvenience. Especially for people residing in Mumbai and Chennai, rain has become curse for at least last two years. Gujarat also is getting the wrong end of rain.
But if you look at it in proper perspective you will see that it’s all about the timing. During hot summer months, almost all of us start praying for rain. Everyday we look out for weather report, and if I am not mistaken, most of us follow the path of monsoon as we follow BSE / NSE sensex. But once it starts raining it brings hell lot of misery to a city dweller: Road Block, traffic jam, late to office and late return to home, water logging, dampness, outbreak of diseases, so on and so on.
But personally I am very romantic about rain. As a Bengali I find divine pleasure in eating hot Khichdi (Puddle made of rice and dal) with begun bhaja (brinjal fry) or Aloo bhaja (potato fry), the best should be with Ilish machh bhaja (Hilsa fish fry).
I do enjoy rainy day at Goa just sitting in the balcony watching the different moods of rain with small sips of liquor (preferably RUM).
I do enjoy soaking in rain on the ghats of Haridwar, Rishikesh, Puri, Chitrakoot, Radhanagar Beach (Andamans)
I am nostalgic about early days of my marriage during rainy season.
Just the thought of raindrops falling on my face while I stand in rain facing the sky brings enormous joy.
Hell, there are lots of happy memories of rainy days.
But today I am talking about rain in villages.
I have spent the past month in different parts of Chhattishgarh. This rainy season brought me back to my childhood. Here it rains like hell. Once it starts it continues to pour for 3-4 days, relentlessly. The life in village becomes active. The farmers are in the field. I have nothing to do except just watch and enjoy. It is very relaxing once you know you cannot do anything, you cannot go anywhere, just sit in front of the window and watch the raindrops.
Let me recite an old Bengali poem on the occasion:
‘Raat din jham jham, Raat din tup tup,
Ki saje sejechho Raani eki aaj aporoop.
Anane Bijoli haasi, Galaay kadam haar,
Anchale Ketaki Chhata e abaar ki bahar’.
It may be translated to something like;
Day and night, it is only jham jham and tup tup
You queen, what a dress you have adorned!
You have the smile in lightning, garland in Kadam flower,
Pallu of your saree is of Ketaki flower, what a beauty it is!
Well if you just sit and watch rain for long time you can feel the different sounds of rain, ‘tup tup’ and ‘jhir jhir’ - when it drizzles, ‘jham jham’ when it pours. Sometime the rain is so heavy that you cannot see anything; sometime when it drizzles it is different. There is one more type of rain, which in Bengali called ‘Ilshe Gudi’ – this is when the raindrops are so small that there is no sound, you feel the raindrops only when you go out and look up. It falls on your face just to make it moist. The change of light also worth noticing.
One morning after a rainfall of 3-4 days when the rain has just subsided enough, I got out to go to Kondagaon, some 35 kms from here. On the way I have to cross Indravati river. There is a low bridge over the river. But this morning it gave me a different scene. The bridge has vanished under a vast expanse of water. All low-lying areas are submerged. Water, water everywhere, in whichever you way look at. What a scene it is!. Hundreds of people are flocking to watch the overflowing river.
My enjoyment was short-lived. I was told that I cannot go because the road is breached somewhere near Kondagaon and all vehicular traffic is stopped on this route. Well, after a forced rest of 4 days I have become restless and sitting at hotel room has become unpalatable. I changed my plan to go to Rayagada (Orissa), which is in opposite direction. But after a few kms I had to stop again, this road also is closed for vehicular traffic due to breach somewhere farther. Jagdalpur is fully isolated now.
So what to do? Return? The enjoyment of rain has taken its own toll and I am getting frustrated and bored. I got down from the vehicle and looked around. On both sides of the road it is only muddy water. But the villagers are unperturbed. The rainy season is busy season for them. The men and women all are out on the field, some are busy in ploughing, some in replanting the paddy plants. Those who do not know, Paddy seeds are first grown in one small piece of land. After they grow may be one feet or so in height, they are uprooted and replanted in regular rows and columns. As we kept standing we could feel the life of the villagers, they are happy, busy and even don’t have time to gawk at us (which is the normal reaction on my arrival to any village; the moment anybody arrives from city they simply gawk, women and children starts giggling and whispering among themselves.) But today nobody showed any interest.
What the hell? Why to go back? Let me spend the day here only.
The scene of ploughing brought back the memory of one more poem, maybe of Rabindranath:
Aamraa Chaash Kori Aanande,
Maathe Maathe belaa kaate
Sakaal hote Sandhe,
Roudra othe, brishti pare
Baansher bane paataa nare
Chashaa maatir gandhe,
Aamraa Chaash kari Aanande.
Merrily we plough the field,
from dawn to dusk,
we spend our day in the fields,
In sunshine and in rain
the leaves of bamboo tree sways
In the fragrance of the ploughed field,
we merrily plough the field.
I am not a translator, but I hope I could reproduce the basic meaning of the poem.
What a pleasure to go back down memory lane to your childhood!
Slowly we veered the vehicle around a roadside tea stall. How much I like village life, but till could not make me accustomed to the syrupy tea they serve in these tea stalls. But how to spend the whole day? So got myself tea prepared specially instructed.
It started raining again, jhir jhir, jhir, jhir.
I noticed that all the women working on the field is either draped in blue or green. Surprised, on enquiry I was really taken aback, they are draped from head to ankle in polythene sheets. (I am a true crusader against use of plastic) This is the first time I came across a proper use of plastic. Earlier days the farmers used to wear a special kind of hat almost conical shaped, made of bamboo, the size used to so big that it almost used to cover the body along with head (I think it is called ‘toka’ in Bengal).
What a rainy day without ‘jhalmoori’. The tea stall owner was so happy to get a Bengali babu as customer that he made necessary arrangements to feed me jhalmoori (puffed rice, spiced with raw mustard oil, green chillies, fried pea nuts, some mixtures etc.etc.) What a day!
I thought anyway as I don’t have anything to do today and already soaked with rain, why not visit Chilkooti village, which is some 13 kms from here. So we started for Chilkooti. The village road in rainy days is degenerated to puddle of mud and water. Venturing on this road is really adventurous. But I am in no mood to consider the sore face of driver Budhia. So here we go to Chilkooti.
Chilkooti is a village of artisans. There are some 5-6 families who make artifacts of Bell metal. They sure did not expect any visitor in this rainy day hence nothing was ready for purchase. Anyway I took class in making of Bell metal artifacts. First they prepare the articles with wax. Once the article is ready with all the artistic finery, they put clay all over the wax article. Then it is dried. Once dried, it is fired in bhatti (furnace). In furnace the clay hardens and the inside wax melts down and goes out through the hole at the bottom. When the shell is ready, molten bell metal is poured inside the hardened shell. Once the molten metal solidifies, the shell is broken and the metal has taken the shape of the wax article. I saw some wax elephants, brides and grooms, male and female figures drumming, nagaras etc. are getting ready.
I have promised them to get some business. I hope some of my readers will be interested and you know where to find them. (This is one of my part time social service activities – promoting village industry).
Well this is here I stopped last time.
Once again I am at Jagdalpur. And from the moment I stepped in it is raining. I was standing in a tea stall and overheard from the conversation of a few villagers. ‘ye barish jaldi nahin rukegi. Ye mansson ki barish nehi hain, bangal ki khadi mein dabao ke karan ye barish ho raha hain - This rain is not going to stop easily, this is not monsoon rain, this is because of low pressure in Bay of Bengal’. I am sure, like me, you also are pleasantly surprised by the knowledge of village folks. Well, the spread of TV has some good effects also!
Anyway spending another week in a hotel room was enough for me to search for escape route. Last Friday I decided to start for Hyderabad. The train route from Jagdalpur to Vizag is cancelled due to landslide en route. I decided to travel by bus directly to Hyderabad (this route I was avoiding last month or so due to Naxalite hostility, My driver will not travel in this route). I decided to take a bus. But Friday evening was not a good evening for me (Black Friday?). On arrival at Bus stand I was told that the bus is cancelled, as Konta, (a village on the way) is reeling under 7 feet of water. There is one bus for vizag. But my premonition told me to avoid vizag as the geography of the area makes it most vulnerable in case of rain due to low pressure in Bay of Bengal).
I took a detour to Raipur, instaed of south to the north. From Raipur to Nagpur. I have already requested my friend at Nagpur to book ticket for Hyderabad by bus. But after reaching Nagpur once again my premonition cautioned me to avoid bus route. After great persuasion and greasing of palm I booked a berth in Dakshin Express and reached Hyderabad this morning. The first news in the front page is; roads are closed between Hyderabad and Nagpur and similarly from Hyderabad to Vijaywada, one of the two routes I would have taken, and surely would have been sitting somewhere in a marooned roadside dhaba.
So now I am saying, ‘Rain, Rain, Go away, come again another day”
P.S. Who knows? The flood situation in AP is so bad, who knows, you will really find me somewhere in a marooned village in a day or two trying to reach out with relief.
The following is the unfinished article I have written last Sunday i.e. 30.07.06, but could not finish as I had to go out of station. After that lot of water has flown down Godavari and Indravati, the mood of my writing must have changed. Hence first I am giving the matter written earlier which will give you clear sign of my mood in one week.
After a long time I am experiencing rain as I used to in my childhood. Rain has some special place for me in my heart. I know to a city dweller rain is the cause for most inconvenience. Especially for people residing in Mumbai and Chennai, rain has become curse for at least last two years. Gujarat also is getting the wrong end of rain.
But if you look at it in proper perspective you will see that it’s all about the timing. During hot summer months, almost all of us start praying for rain. Everyday we look out for weather report, and if I am not mistaken, most of us follow the path of monsoon as we follow BSE / NSE sensex. But once it starts raining it brings hell lot of misery to a city dweller: Road Block, traffic jam, late to office and late return to home, water logging, dampness, outbreak of diseases, so on and so on.
But personally I am very romantic about rain. As a Bengali I find divine pleasure in eating hot Khichdi (Puddle made of rice and dal) with begun bhaja (brinjal fry) or Aloo bhaja (potato fry), the best should be with Ilish machh bhaja (Hilsa fish fry).
I do enjoy rainy day at Goa just sitting in the balcony watching the different moods of rain with small sips of liquor (preferably RUM).
I do enjoy soaking in rain on the ghats of Haridwar, Rishikesh, Puri, Chitrakoot, Radhanagar Beach (Andamans)
I am nostalgic about early days of my marriage during rainy season.
Just the thought of raindrops falling on my face while I stand in rain facing the sky brings enormous joy.
Hell, there are lots of happy memories of rainy days.
But today I am talking about rain in villages.
I have spent the past month in different parts of Chhattishgarh. This rainy season brought me back to my childhood. Here it rains like hell. Once it starts it continues to pour for 3-4 days, relentlessly. The life in village becomes active. The farmers are in the field. I have nothing to do except just watch and enjoy. It is very relaxing once you know you cannot do anything, you cannot go anywhere, just sit in front of the window and watch the raindrops.
Let me recite an old Bengali poem on the occasion:
‘Raat din jham jham, Raat din tup tup,
Ki saje sejechho Raani eki aaj aporoop.
Anane Bijoli haasi, Galaay kadam haar,
Anchale Ketaki Chhata e abaar ki bahar’.
It may be translated to something like;
Day and night, it is only jham jham and tup tup
You queen, what a dress you have adorned!
You have the smile in lightning, garland in Kadam flower,
Pallu of your saree is of Ketaki flower, what a beauty it is!
Well if you just sit and watch rain for long time you can feel the different sounds of rain, ‘tup tup’ and ‘jhir jhir’ - when it drizzles, ‘jham jham’ when it pours. Sometime the rain is so heavy that you cannot see anything; sometime when it drizzles it is different. There is one more type of rain, which in Bengali called ‘Ilshe Gudi’ – this is when the raindrops are so small that there is no sound, you feel the raindrops only when you go out and look up. It falls on your face just to make it moist. The change of light also worth noticing.
One morning after a rainfall of 3-4 days when the rain has just subsided enough, I got out to go to Kondagaon, some 35 kms from here. On the way I have to cross Indravati river. There is a low bridge over the river. But this morning it gave me a different scene. The bridge has vanished under a vast expanse of water. All low-lying areas are submerged. Water, water everywhere, in whichever you way look at. What a scene it is!. Hundreds of people are flocking to watch the overflowing river.
My enjoyment was short-lived. I was told that I cannot go because the road is breached somewhere near Kondagaon and all vehicular traffic is stopped on this route. Well, after a forced rest of 4 days I have become restless and sitting at hotel room has become unpalatable. I changed my plan to go to Rayagada (Orissa), which is in opposite direction. But after a few kms I had to stop again, this road also is closed for vehicular traffic due to breach somewhere farther. Jagdalpur is fully isolated now.
So what to do? Return? The enjoyment of rain has taken its own toll and I am getting frustrated and bored. I got down from the vehicle and looked around. On both sides of the road it is only muddy water. But the villagers are unperturbed. The rainy season is busy season for them. The men and women all are out on the field, some are busy in ploughing, some in replanting the paddy plants. Those who do not know, Paddy seeds are first grown in one small piece of land. After they grow may be one feet or so in height, they are uprooted and replanted in regular rows and columns. As we kept standing we could feel the life of the villagers, they are happy, busy and even don’t have time to gawk at us (which is the normal reaction on my arrival to any village; the moment anybody arrives from city they simply gawk, women and children starts giggling and whispering among themselves.) But today nobody showed any interest.
What the hell? Why to go back? Let me spend the day here only.
The scene of ploughing brought back the memory of one more poem, maybe of Rabindranath:
Aamraa Chaash Kori Aanande,
Maathe Maathe belaa kaate
Sakaal hote Sandhe,
Roudra othe, brishti pare
Baansher bane paataa nare
Chashaa maatir gandhe,
Aamraa Chaash kari Aanande.
Merrily we plough the field,
from dawn to dusk,
we spend our day in the fields,
In sunshine and in rain
the leaves of bamboo tree sways
In the fragrance of the ploughed field,
we merrily plough the field.
I am not a translator, but I hope I could reproduce the basic meaning of the poem.
What a pleasure to go back down memory lane to your childhood!
Slowly we veered the vehicle around a roadside tea stall. How much I like village life, but till could not make me accustomed to the syrupy tea they serve in these tea stalls. But how to spend the whole day? So got myself tea prepared specially instructed.
It started raining again, jhir jhir, jhir, jhir.
I noticed that all the women working on the field is either draped in blue or green. Surprised, on enquiry I was really taken aback, they are draped from head to ankle in polythene sheets. (I am a true crusader against use of plastic) This is the first time I came across a proper use of plastic. Earlier days the farmers used to wear a special kind of hat almost conical shaped, made of bamboo, the size used to so big that it almost used to cover the body along with head (I think it is called ‘toka’ in Bengal).
What a rainy day without ‘jhalmoori’. The tea stall owner was so happy to get a Bengali babu as customer that he made necessary arrangements to feed me jhalmoori (puffed rice, spiced with raw mustard oil, green chillies, fried pea nuts, some mixtures etc.etc.) What a day!
I thought anyway as I don’t have anything to do today and already soaked with rain, why not visit Chilkooti village, which is some 13 kms from here. So we started for Chilkooti. The village road in rainy days is degenerated to puddle of mud and water. Venturing on this road is really adventurous. But I am in no mood to consider the sore face of driver Budhia. So here we go to Chilkooti.
Chilkooti is a village of artisans. There are some 5-6 families who make artifacts of Bell metal. They sure did not expect any visitor in this rainy day hence nothing was ready for purchase. Anyway I took class in making of Bell metal artifacts. First they prepare the articles with wax. Once the article is ready with all the artistic finery, they put clay all over the wax article. Then it is dried. Once dried, it is fired in bhatti (furnace). In furnace the clay hardens and the inside wax melts down and goes out through the hole at the bottom. When the shell is ready, molten bell metal is poured inside the hardened shell. Once the molten metal solidifies, the shell is broken and the metal has taken the shape of the wax article. I saw some wax elephants, brides and grooms, male and female figures drumming, nagaras etc. are getting ready.
I have promised them to get some business. I hope some of my readers will be interested and you know where to find them. (This is one of my part time social service activities – promoting village industry).
Well this is here I stopped last time.
Once again I am at Jagdalpur. And from the moment I stepped in it is raining. I was standing in a tea stall and overheard from the conversation of a few villagers. ‘ye barish jaldi nahin rukegi. Ye mansson ki barish nehi hain, bangal ki khadi mein dabao ke karan ye barish ho raha hain - This rain is not going to stop easily, this is not monsoon rain, this is because of low pressure in Bay of Bengal’. I am sure, like me, you also are pleasantly surprised by the knowledge of village folks. Well, the spread of TV has some good effects also!
Anyway spending another week in a hotel room was enough for me to search for escape route. Last Friday I decided to start for Hyderabad. The train route from Jagdalpur to Vizag is cancelled due to landslide en route. I decided to travel by bus directly to Hyderabad (this route I was avoiding last month or so due to Naxalite hostility, My driver will not travel in this route). I decided to take a bus. But Friday evening was not a good evening for me (Black Friday?). On arrival at Bus stand I was told that the bus is cancelled, as Konta, (a village on the way) is reeling under 7 feet of water. There is one bus for vizag. But my premonition told me to avoid vizag as the geography of the area makes it most vulnerable in case of rain due to low pressure in Bay of Bengal).
I took a detour to Raipur, instaed of south to the north. From Raipur to Nagpur. I have already requested my friend at Nagpur to book ticket for Hyderabad by bus. But after reaching Nagpur once again my premonition cautioned me to avoid bus route. After great persuasion and greasing of palm I booked a berth in Dakshin Express and reached Hyderabad this morning. The first news in the front page is; roads are closed between Hyderabad and Nagpur and similarly from Hyderabad to Vijaywada, one of the two routes I would have taken, and surely would have been sitting somewhere in a marooned roadside dhaba.
So now I am saying, ‘Rain, Rain, Go away, come again another day”
P.S. Who knows? The flood situation in AP is so bad, who knows, you will really find me somewhere in a marooned village in a day or two trying to reach out with relief.
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