Monsoon Memories -2

June 1. Sun may not rise in the east. The siren at 8 am may not go off to alert the workers in my village, but monsoon rains would never miss the date. As we get ready to go the school, thick dark clouds in the south west corner greeted us on the first day to school. Umbrella was a must. But umbrella was just not adequate to prevent us from drenching every part of the body except head. Protecting the books from rain water was a task. Most of us kept it intact by covering them in polythene sheets. Still, there were children without umbrellas. Many parents could not really afford to buy an umbrella and many others were just indifferent. They knew children would still walk all the way to school with the help of a plantain leaf, take shelter in a wayside shop or take help from the ones who had an umbrella. 

Somehow every kid tried to go to school everyday irrespective of the end results. Result was not a concern for anyone, be it the student or the parents. My slate always showed 50/50. These

figures filled the entire space of the slate in every exam till the 4th class. As I walked back from the LP school to home, I proudly held the slate aloft for everyone to see. I do not remember if anyone was appreciative of this big achievement. Perhaps grandpa felt happy though he never showed it outside Grandma never knew how big the 'laurels' her grandson brought home. She would have felt very happy and recorded in mind that I would become a big man in future. She did not live long enough to see her dreams come true and I am still waiting to fulfill her presumed dream!  That was how the villagers treated education. Nothing great has been lost, anyway. Everyone is living happily and the bottom line of all achievements in life is living happily. Visibly, it is happening, going by the good houses and the happy faces I could see when I visit my village occasionally. 

All ponds overflew in the monsoon. So did the 'sarpakulam' the sacred pond dedicated to the snake gods. A small canal was cut open to make the excess water to flow out to the nearby paddy field. A small stream of water flows from the revered 'sarpakulam' to the paddy field carrying a number of small fish along. We made paper boats and put in the stream. The boat moved hitting so many hurdles till it sinks as it absorbed water. Sometimes, even big fish came out of the pond which directly went to the kitchen. There were such small incidents of pleasure in the monsoon days though hardships got better of everything else. 

All over the land, there were water loggings. Gutters in road were filled with dirty water. The precincts of our temple has big water logging. Ankle deep water was so pleasant to walk through. The plus point was that since it was a temple, no one spitted or threw rubbish into it. We ran through the shallow water splashing it all over. Water when stamped with one foot and then kick the splashing water with the other like a football, a loud noise is created. That was a favourite pastime for the children. Run and kick water several times was a thrilling game. Some guys were amazingly fast in kicking more number of times with louder noise

Rain or shine, thunder or storm, we never missed the visit to the temple. Once on his stay at home, our father gave a task to lit a few lanterns in the Sri Krishna temple. The temple has been our family property for long but there was no pooja conducted in the evening time. From the day he advised us to do so, we never skipped even a single day. Every evening, we two brothers along with other children walked to the temple. We carried oil in a small bottle, cotton wicks and a match box. Even in torrential rains, that was a regular feature on monsoon days, we did make it to temple. Many days, during the evening pooja in the Mahadevar temple, we two brothers and the old lady from the neighboring house were the only attendees. In the clear weather days we had another companion. The cute little boy, our eldest nephew. That was the time our eldest sister gave birth to a baby boy. We were crazy about the child and vied with each other to carry him and entertain him. We took him to temple many days. On the way back, he always slept and my brother used to carry him on his shoulder. That was interesting because we were playing uncles for the first time. 

A metallic tin with four ropes tied to it, two on top and two on bottom acted as a device to transfer water from one place to another. In the water logged landscape, our device worked as a water transferring mechanism. Four boys holding each end of the rope dipped the can in the water and then simultaneously pulled it to throw the water to another place. It was a very thrilling game indeed. Elders used much improvised device to remove water and mud from our ponds during renovation and maintenance work in the ponds. Four muscular men do this and as the metallic vessel go up and down the pond carrying mud and water, it was like watching a JCB in action in the modern days. The only difference might be the former was very eco friendly and always done with a view to help nature whereas the JCBs are meant mainly for destruction. 

At the end of all the entertainments we found in the incessant rains we were left with itchy feet. Come night, the feet start irritatingly itchy. Two hands were too less to tackle the problem. Elders lent their hands quiet often. Crying in helplessness was the only thing we could do in the night. They apply medicine all over the feet that brought much needed relief. The tender feet turned violet after the healer medicine is applied. Somehow we hit the bed and slept only to wake up in the morning to go to school. On the background the siren goes off alerting the children to come to the road to start the long march...