It is the month of January. Like all other
years me, my family and the two dogs are getting the stone pelting everyday even
while at home. No it is no revenge from the neighbors, but from the children of
the neighborhood. Every noon after
returning home from school they gather in groups to target the ber (Zizyphus) tree that we got at the backyard, which bear the small, but the most delicious tropical fruits at the end of the
winter.
Yesterday noon these children expedite to the other side of the compound wall and started pelting pebbles, stones, rocks and even brickbats to pluck these sweet fruit. Soon Dany and Diana raised the alarm by barking. And my Amma assigned me to go and nab the children. I went to open the rear gate, but I was helpless. Because these children were clever enough to lock the door from outside. I was as helpless as these two dogs were. We were all locked inside our own fort. After a while Ladoo came running to the window and shouted, “Chachu Chachu…. those Oriya kids are stealing your buros”. I asked him to open the door and he unlocked it. But by the time I step outside, those kids were chu champat (fled) the place.
Ladoo
the four years old Marwadi kid is the unofficial spy of mine. He reported it
was the gang of Oriya kids of the other street. In the mean while Piyush, Ayush, Chotu and Vivek with a broken elbow
gathered with us. They showed their
concern for my safety and told not to worry and they will guard the back street.
I was moved by their word of assurance. I asked them to wait for a while. I went
inside the garden and gathered all the fallen fruits and distributed to these
Marwadi kids for their solidarity. And these kids started shouting in a chorus,
“Kiran Chachu Jindabad Jindabad, Kiran Chachu Jindabad Jindabad”. I was much pleased to get the laurels, even
when my action had no political motive.
In this winter the asbestos roof of our abandoned store room has been completely
destroyed due to the pelting of the brickbats and the rocks by the street kids.
My father declared to execute the buro tree. My Amma expressed her resentment
as every plant and the tree in the garden are being grown by her caring hands
for the past ten years. Apart from Dany
and Diana garden is her first love.
 |
| [Monkeys while invaded our residence complex to steal the buros on a winter noon] |
I do believe it is not only my nephew Sreyanshu
and niece Srestha, but every bird, monkey
and the children of Barpali got the equal
right to relish these delicious small
fruits. Definitely it’s a nuisance, but we have to live life on this earth
while giving space to others to grow. Its evening hours and play time for the
street kids. I could hear one boy is shouting as :
“chal bo, chal jhadama buro” which means, lets
go and pluck the berries.
“chal bo, chal jhadama buro” which means, lets
go and pluck the berries.
WhatsApp# +918249314972
E.Kiran Mohan(The Blogger)
C/o.Dr.E.R.Rao (MD)
Tehsil Chowk,
At/PO. BARPALI – 768 029
Dist. Bargarh, Odisha, India
Nice post.....reminds of own childhood days (Sundargarh)...we used to go stealing for these sweet-tart berries...
ReplyDeleteYou are doing a good job of documenting the traditions, cultures and day-to-day happenings of Western Orissa..
A berrylicious story! :D..well yes...sharing doubles up the joy...so may be you could make an arrangement where you could offer them to pelt a few stones from the inside out and they may enjoy the fun of earning them and relishing too...with no damage to you :)
ReplyDeleteKiran-ji Juhar,
ReplyDeleteThis is one of the best posts in Barpali days. Not that the other posts are any less interesting.
But this post brings out vividly the simple joys of rustic life which is so much more enriching than the stagnant pleasures which city life offers.
There is such a strong relationship between the people of Barpali and its peaceful environment. The trees and stones, its wind and water, its seasonal changes and the bounties they bring, the festivals, the language and daily rituals, the eternal love that children have for hunting for fruits from the neighbour's trees.... all these bind the people of Barpali in joyful togetherness, and with a strength that is unbelievable.
Best of all, it has brought out your warm and caring heart, as is obvious from these lines:
I do believe it is not only my nephew Sreyanshu and niece Srestha, but every bird, monkey and the children of Barpali got the equal right to relish these delicious small fruits. Definitely it’s a nuisance, but we have to live life on this earth while giving space to others to grow.
In my home in Calicut, we too have a profusion of mango and cashew trees. When the fruits ripen we too have to suffer from pelting stones, which miss the mark and hit us.
It is useless to warn the children, because for them, this is an age old ritual which all children enjoy partaking in. This inclination to steal fruit from somebody else's orchard, is like a fascinating game for them.
I too used to run to our gate , and request the children who hid behind our compound wall, not to throw stones at the fruit, but to come to my house where I would readily give them mangoes when they were finally plucked . But nobody would listen to me.
Thank you for sending me post. I especially liked the pictures, especially where you have caught the boys sneaking up to your compound wall.
I can well imagine what your mother feels, for each plant or tree grown by her, will be to her like her own children.
Best wishes,
Radha Nair
I am living on the backstreet of the writer E.Kiran Mohan. Everyday I am watching the pranks of street children. This story is true. His feelings are heart touching and very nice.
ReplyDeleteNaba Kishor Dash
Barpali
It was extremely nice blog where small things are posted that happened to our day to day life.and this story was heart touching and remind my childhood days..missing my childhood :(
ReplyDeleteAsish chirania
Barpali
Its true. Its winter n rightnow m watching dis children doing this bhurkuti
ReplyDeleteI loved the title. Having left western orissa since 2 decades the title is something I used ao many times as a kid when we wouod go to the neighbour plot to pelt stones and sticks to get the fruit.
ReplyDeleteSome visual now dancing front on my eyes and remembering the past .you describe the real picture of childhood.just i remember one sentence "BUDHI KAHIN GALA BO ".ha ha ha.unique article.
ReplyDeleteIt's such an nice. Typically village life. That how small children through rocks to pluck sweet fruit. I have my own experience also. U remembered my past sir. Thanks for Such a lovely story. .
ReplyDeleteNarratives are excellent, I can visualise all the incidents taking place in barapali though I stay far away. Chitranjan
ReplyDeleteAmazing post sir.Those saitan kids must be more courageous than anybody at the time of plum stealing 😁 I reminisce the days when me and my friends were used to throw stones on buro trees just even to get a single piece.After returning from school,it was like our ritual to either pluck plum with permission or without.We were too energetic those days whenever buro season comes.There was a special topic related to this,we discussed after school.We discuss like we are going to a great venture ,so before planning was necessary to conquer our plan speedily .We planned ,might be less like commandos 😁😁 . I remember those golden days sir...Thnking you from bottom of heart that you narrated it so aesthetically 🙏
ReplyDeleteWith your post on screen,I directly went to my childhood and reminisce those days .It was so beautiful..I crave for those days again..
ReplyDeleteEverything is different when you are a child and Memories of childhood were the dreams that stayed with you after you woke.With your post its reminds me exquisitely childhood memories.
ReplyDeleteIt reminded me of my childhood
ReplyDeleteAmit thanks for posting a comment in this blog
DeleteGreat dada 👌 👏
Deletevery exiciting story of Buro dear Kiran ji...loved it and relished as well..thanks for sharing your experience which shows your love for the kids and environment as well
ReplyDelete