The Barpali Days

Stories 2:06 PM

Mango mania

[The charming story of school kids invading a mango grove to steal the raw mangoes]

It was the year 1983 and then I was a student of Class 7^th of the historic Prithiviraj High School of Balangir, Odisha. Though I used to be a below average student in studies, but was always loyal and obedient either to the teachers at school or the parents at home. It was the month of April and the summer holidays has just begin. Unlike the present generation of kids, during the 80’s of the last Century we did not had many options to play games. There were no video games, cell phones, tabs, computers or lap tops to play electronic games. We had to resort to play outdoor games only, that involve physical movements. But we the kids did not used to have much sports equipments be it either a football, cricket bat or badminton racket to play, since most of my friends were from the poor families. Our parents were keeping a strict vigil on our movements as during the noon hours of April and May in Western Odisha the temperature surpass 45 (°C) degree Celsius. They did not wanted us to be victims of summer heat stroke.

We were a gang of around eight friends who were always playing together. One of my close compatriots whom I calls as Marsad proposed to invade the mango grove that exist on the Sonepur road. We planned to raid the grove at noon hours when our mothers would go to sleep after partaking lunch. Out of the eight only four of us had cycles. I agreed to take a friend along in my bicycle with the condition, he has to pedal the cycle while I will seat on the front beam. On the state high way we raid our bicycles. The road was empty because of the summer heat. In those years vehicular traffic was scanty, because people did not used to have personal vehicles. My Marsad instructed us to park the cycles behind a bush and to walk final lap silently without causing any noise. And we just followed his instructions cautiously. Finally we reached our destination.

It looked something like a forest. There were as many as twelve to fifteen trees bearing raw mangos. We were about to invade the mangrove as if dacoits, but our gang leader Marsad halted us. He raised his hands and asked us to seat on the ground. We followed his instructions obediently. He said there is an old watchman who is guarding this mango garden. If he catches any of you, than he will rupture your bones into pieces with the thenga (thick stick) that he carries. He choosed three out of us to lead the mission. He said Mankad, Hanu and himself will climb to the top of the trees to pluck the mangoes. While Deba, Luku and myself will stand at the bottom of each tree to gather the fruits. And the rest two will be vigilant on the outskirt. And these two boys have been entrusted with the most important job. When they notice the watchman coming they will raise the alarm to the tune of a cuckoo bird saying “koooo……..koooo……..koooo”.

I followed Hanu to the garden. He choose a massive tree and halted before it. He removed his sleepers and touched the trunk of the tree and folded his both hands while closing his eyes. With his head he touched the tree. He paid his obeisance to the tree so as he should not fall accidentally from the top. Then he looked towards me. I raised my both hands to say be careful. With articulate movements of his limbs in half a minute he climbed the tree. While standing on the tree he located the branches of the tree that carry fruits. He went to one edge and plucked a few raw mangoes and started filling his knicker pockets. Then I spotted him biting a mango and eating it. I lost my temper. I raised my voice saying “kshhh…..kshhh……….”. Hanu looked towards me. With my hands I instructed him to throw one mango. Instantly he threw one raw mango. With much pleasure I picked the mango, but was disappointed to find it was bitten by Hanu. In a vulgar language I said “sala mankad (monkey) you are giving me a bitten fruit”. I asked him to get down so as I would climb the tree. But he laughed saying, one who sleep on the lap of luxury of an air cooler at night can never climb a mango tree during the day. I threw the raw mango back at him. But it missed its target and fell back on the ground. Hanu laughed at me. I was getting impatient. He dropped yet another mango. I was reluctant to lift the second mango, but he said it’s a good one. I believed on the voice with which he said and went to lift it. It was comparatively a bigger green mango. From the pocket of my knicker I took out the salt rolled in a news paper piece that I carried from home. While dripping in the salt I eat that mango. It was so sour in taste. I shouted back at Hanu. He said the most sour raw mango turn out to be the sweetest when ripen. I asked, does that mean I have to wait in this humid weather until the mangoes ripe. He said, go to the grocery store and buy “aam papdi”.

While I was relishing the raw mango Hanu screamed from the tree. I thought it to be yet another prank of this notorious kid. I asked him not to raise the voice, the watchman would come and catch us. But when I looked upward Hanu was moving further towards the edge of the branch while shivering and stammering. I noticed a monkey was approaching him. I shouted from the ground, “a mankad ja bhag, a mankad ja bhag” (hey monkey you get lost). But it kept moving forward. Hurriedly I picked a rock from the ground and threw towards the monkey, but it missed it’s target. It was non of the fault of the monkey, rather we invaded his territory. While shivering and moving backward the leg of Hanu skidded from the branch of the tree and he crash landed on the ground from a height of around 15 feets. I rushed to the spot to lift him. He was crying while saying “a Maa go, a Maa go” (Oh mother ! Oh mother). Other friends also gathered. Hanu was crying insistently while checking his left hand. We made him seat on the cycle and returned to our street. First we went to drop Hanu at his home and we all returned to our respective homes.

At late evening when I went to street to play, I found Hanu was walking bare body while his hand was striped in a white bandage. I went to ask his wellbeing. His younger brother said Hanu’s left hand has been fractured, because he fell while riding the cycle. I looked towards Hanu with concern and he smiled back at me. I asked him in which grocery store I can buy the aam papdi ? He said buying a pack of aam papdi with the stolen money is easier than stealing mangoes from a garden.

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E.Kiran Mohan(The Writer)

C/o.Dr.E.R.Rao (MD)

Tehsil Chowk,

At/PO. BARPALI – 768 029

Dist. Bargarh, Orissa, India

E Kiran Mohan 6

11:33 AM

Nikita Bishi : A Child Football Prodigy of Barpali

Nikita Bishi is a student of Class 10^th of Govt. Girls High School of Barpali. Ever since she was eight years old she is playing football in her village Kadlipali. Initially she was inspired while watching the boys to play football on the playground. At Barpali sports is something which is subject to male dominance. In this region of Odisha the movement of girls are strictly restricted within the four corners of their home. Under the mentorship of coach Sampurna Bhoi she started playing football. It is a game that needs mental toughness. It causes enormous physical exhaustion. Nikita learnt the intricate techniques that are involved to play this game. Over the years with enormous practice she outperformed her colleagues in this sport. During April 2016 Nikita went to play football at Tajikistan in AFC Under-14 Girls’ Regional Championship 2016. She went on an all expenses paid trip to Dushanbe the capital city of Tajikistan. In the Team India she occupied the position of main striker at Left Forward.

[Nikita is the 5th seating girl from left on the first row at Tajkisthan]

[Dilip Bishi the father of Nikita in the liquor distillery]

Now you would be thinking Nikita might be a daughter of a sports coach to acquire the skills that are needed to reach an international tournament. But one would be dumbstruck to discover the father of Nikita to be a vendor of ground-nuts, eggs and other sundry items at Modbhati (local liquor distillery) of Barpali. Her father Dilip Bishi has under taken possibly the worst vocation available on this earth. From morning 6.00AM to night 11.00PM Dilip operates his business while every moment bruised by the drunkards. In life Dilip Bishi never travelled beyond Cuttack in Odisha, where as his daughter Nikita caught a flight and went overseas.

[Niketa Bishi along with her coach Sampurna Bhoi]
It is to be noted Dilip Bishi and his family belongs to Sanhara caste. She is a Schedule Tribe (ST) hence economically backward. Their ancestors were dwelling in the forests of Odisha. This girl Nikita Bishi needs adequate financial support to hone her skills in playing football. She seeks a sponsorship either from any individual or corporate to support her interest in sports. She can be reached at her Cell # 91-99-372-49680. She could speak either Oriya or Hindi, but no English. She is not computer literate so no email id. In case you want to forward any help you may communicate with this writer at the given below email id.