My village

My village

Part 1

 

On the bank of an amazing river

and rivers, many adorning her

as necklaces with filigree wonder

altering their grandeur and color

with seasons, rain summer and winter

and at day and night, at dusk and dawn,

is the village Kalikapur where I was born.

Annals does not exist to announce its origin

but “The civilizations thrived at rivers’ basin.’

The scenes mute and vibrant blaze within me

from my infancy onward altering its color as times flee.

My infancy story on many arms and on many laps

and my gratitude due struggle to come out of straps.

Isolated from the outer world my villagers lived on their own.

except salt and a matchstick unaffected were they in isolation.

Their love and cooperation, fight and reconciliation

hard toil, superb skill in me are on my propitiation.

Unaware of numbers beyond twenty they could trade

counted they any number marking a twenty by a grass blade

All names with their faces and frames in me, wink

their contribution to then the society I must ink

No mode or medium existed then to capture them

except for my naïve words now to unfold the same

If the human acumen can invent some aids new

that can translate my old memories to a scenic view.

befittingly then I can flaunt the glories of my village

that has eroded because of greedy unwise human savage.

When rivers were in spate and irate to roar

when pitch darkness prevails and falls heavy downpour

a baby was born and its mother got proper attention

the sick survived with experienced herbal medication.

the howling of jackals from the nearby cremation ground

my grandma’s tales and insects’ frightening screams around

banana leaves as dining bowels and dry leaves as fuel

life was peaceful none ever accused the lord to him as cruel

All jobs were artful and hard demanded the highest skill

as no modern aids were available and tasks were uphill.

All these thoughts prompt me to search for words to illustrate

present I will picture as simile available roughly approximate

It is just the start pf my journey to appreciate the infinity

Criticize me, ignore me but it is my promise to present with humility.

start I, in this preamble one lady and her yeoman’s deeds

she doctored, nursed, served the village in all gynecological needs.

a number of generations including me were delivered by her skill

she is called universally as Punama an old lady with the will power of steel.

Her story, in short, she came as a young widow with an infant son

settled and served with love and ensured all gynecological attention.

 

 

(P K Routray

in service of Lord)

(My village Kalikapur is located on the bank of river Mahanadi and is surrounded by its branches.In flood gets totally isolated till a decade from now when bridges have been built. I and my siblings were born in the village nursed by Poonama like all others in the( villages.This part is the preamble. I shall continue my journey depicting the village life-changing over the years. .