skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Love
I will be continuing in a little different fashion now. I know you are more intelligent to me in billions ways so you are probably more possessed to me. Mom got married to Dad not in western part of punjab of british era but only some where in Ludhiana. Dad was of 16 yrs age and mom 12 but since no body was having money at that time it was organised or say solemnized like what should I say you hardly know how to knock at my door and come inside whilst hell non sense does appear too often. The scene of village looked like as some wooded fences are there with a shoddy enclosures so to say like. You can feel like a huge sand dune having a diameteric distance of say visible range on west side whilst rest of the visible range could hardly say anything but for xeric plants some ones were van tree ( now extinct except somewhere specially looked after eg at a place where anu was with me at kutub ki lat in Delhi.)
Love
I am sketching my love to you on the backdrop of what mom told me of her days. I am referring to a period say 1948-1952. Dad was a black horse under all reckoning. I will be skipping too much of her version that I will tell at a later date. Mom started living with Dad at village when there was no house as such. A dilapidated kacha house was used as her honeymoon palace. Dad did not have any money as he was yet to have some work worth the name. Mom fetched with her a stitching machine of some british era time make. Dad was simply tossing the idea how to start his farming as there was no land worth for this purpose only jungle land was there. Mom started taking the work from her peer groups. It was hardly sufficient for their meals so to say like. There was an old dilapidated well on one side of the land scape. ( I will continue.) love today starting from the morning hr till this time hell non sense have been there but love mom never thought of a bloody concept of woman of substance. (I will continue) I was talking of a well. The well was abonded owing to weeds and slipping of sands making a just a fossil of a well so to say. The path to village well got obliterated with infestation of snakes and other such creeping animals so villagers hardly a couple of people started fetching water from river gaghar basin at a distance of say 15 km or so. Dad was having his experience of panchayat from his dad at hitherto western parts of punjab of british era. He did not have the official symbol by that time. Somehow his nerves worked and people got to know the wisdom of collective sense to speak like but gurudwara has no place in this venture. It took about 10 days for all to restore the well with his efforts derived from his ancestral experience and the like. Well was ready for domestic usu age. Dad knew that his job was not simple and he would not succeed at certain points. He went to his brother in law using the means of that period. Harichand was his name. A person of un defined nerves at mechanical work of wood work and metal together. Harichand helped the local carpenter and devised himself the shaft the pulley the buckets the pulling mechanism and the like. I remember it took them one month with a promised barter system and the well was ready for agriculture lifting of water. The later story I will write on your some different snap.
Love
I am painting my love to you on the backdrop of my dad love to my mom. I have literally traced that area where Dad used to ferry mom to village on too many occasions. Road s are a very recent phenomenon. Probably it was 1962 summer. Dad asked his contacts at the village to prepare sweets and say namkeen of those days. Village used to be self reliant for practically every purpose. I hardly remember a moment when any body felt that there is a difference between glamour quotient of my village and any city life of that period. Cloths were partially pooled from cottage outlets at village and from urban locations from far flung areas like abhohar ganganagar ludhiana and the like. Transport was tractor trolley and bullock cart. electricity was kerosene lamps of different shapes and say qualities too. Raw material say sugars tea dals condiments were again pooled in a mixture set up of working. Dad used to fetch in bulk as it was easy for him to feed very large number of people who used to be sharing life with him in different manners roles connotations.
I remember by 10 AM a huge gathering of gusts were fetched on the tractor trolley. the sweets and salty mixtures and tea were being served
Mom was weeping whilst serving such a huge quantum of eatables stored in village made plant-fibre containers of different shapes. I could not get what made her weep. She somehow was normal after a few minutes so to say.
Later on she told me she wanted to organise the function at sirsa as it happened to be a city.
Love
I am sketching my love to you against the backdrop of say 1960. Peer groups was a very strong concept at village level. I dont think you have affectionate people in your environments. There was hardly any money factor to allure to some dice so to say. There was a gurudwara grounds just flanking my dad house. I remember every evening used to be full of songs and games. I have never heard any bullshit eve teasing and the like. chaste punjabi tappe were sung and it adored and resonated the environments like Pakiza movie songs thronged the hearts of the people in later years. ( I will continue.) there was no theater no screen no dais no stadium no milkha singh no saroj khan no kapil dev no light arrangements no camera no director no script and no motto even except the aura of Nature lit large sometimes adoring the cloths say chandi ki rat and usually naked the pitch dark but no khushwant could ever take roots. ( I will continue.) During the day s of lori rich customs like dula bhati wala were performed where by a few groups were organised and commune sharing of eatable were offered. Girls were decorated at other occasions and sweets offered as a token of placating the Nature. Gurudwara played a hub of activity bereft of any dogmas attached. Every morning and evening for about 2 hrs with flexi time of attendance and flexi concept of age sex or say bereft of any divisions were earmarked as a traditional bhakti songs generally making guru granthsahib as a focus of devotion but with no tags inbuilt. Both the times volunteers arranged for sweets as token of self respect to the commune system of village life but with bloody communist tag.
Gurudwara grounds were utilized for settling the disputes whether personal family related matrimonial or say any such matters where wisdom of the seniors was respected and accepted without any expenditure involved in any manner what so ever it may in the modern way of understanding the finance property worth and the like.
Its not that delinquency is some imported word. I remember Dad had an adage which he used only sparingly : jaat di kor kili tei chateera nu jafe.
Love
I am writing you my love on the backdrop of say 1959. You may get astonished by the time you read the last word. One day I remember mom dad and mom came to village. Mom mom was too affectionate and generally was busy at dressing me and giving some food. Mom Dad was not less affectionate in any way of reckoning. I remember he used to have hukka from my Dad and was busy in gossiping with me however I hardly remember his gossips. He was very tall handsome person but I have very shaded memory of his physique. I generally noticed mom mom was busy at too many works and generally offered cloths to mom dad which were silvery white in shine. Probably they stayed in our house at village for 25 days. At the fag end of their itinerary mom dad did not have his dose of opium/ afim with him. He was hope ful it may be available at village environments. Dad tried his best but those days this was not available as cheap liquor was the only intoxicant of those days that too made from local sources say some acacia arabica roots. Dad never knew that liquor may not help in such emergent situations.
he sent his messenger to Rajasthan border for the medicine.
I remember mom dad was happy at last to have some more days to live peace fully.
Love
this snap of yours was initially not taken as it shows a doctored or say directed negative impulse but some how it does prove a point that you are not a plastic role doing star. I have read the later info on net only as I have no info of your world in any way I hardly see news paper as its a bullshit dirt now a days in all perspectives.
I remember professors told us to keep yourself abreast by reading different news papers and magazines. I have done it best to my efforts but found it somewhat waste of time. One day I was working in an apex institute where magazines were available irrespective of tag of high ranks : I was happy to read foreign news papers and magazines as I thought it will help me in getting through my IAS exam.
any how burnt out wounds never die till you die yourself
hello darling some badnam hui
how are you. I am fine at my place but not like you. I am writing you a story. One day mom went to her parents house at Ladhuka Mandi along with me and my junior. Her house was a big kacha house with two big room s and a front bigger varanda style bigger room. It was having a very large spacious kacha lawn the middle of which was occupied by a hand pump of short size as water table was too shallow on that soil. The entrance was through a wooden gate of not much big size whilst the rest of the environs wore a make shift fence . The entrance door was supported by small time kacha walls. The length of the plot could be something like 1000 meters but breadth was of say 60 feet or something like that. The make shift fence was supposed to be boundary of her parents agriculture land of say 35 Acres. Her parents were extremely accommodative simple and affectionate. I remember her brother used to go with us to the market for storming and fetching some good sweets of that period which were made of sugar having different shapes.
I was not comfortable at the heat of that house owing to poor design. I continuously asked mom to go back to my own village whilst her mom and Dad made their best efforts to cajole me with hand made fans and the like. After a few days mom succumbed to my persistence and started her journey back by a train I remember both of her parents were silent and calm at the railway station.
I have told to Deepika Padukone that some nice eventful days I sat in a balcony at hostel No. 4 in the sun in mid June for my IAS exam. I do not know of IAS but I do know why I could afford to have that heat in that way.
.jpg)
