Hunt for the sugar canes

[The charming story of school going kids how they loot sugar canes

 when a tractor load of it turned upside down due to an accident]

It was the year 1983 then I was a student of Class 7^th of the historic Prithviraj High School of Balangir. Though I was an average student in the class, but happen to be an obedient and a loyal follower of my school teachers. By nature I used to be very shy and calm. One morning on reaching the school my batch mate Bhuska (literally means hefty) told me that a tractor over-loaded with sugar canes has turned upside down by the side of the road. My batch mates lured me to invade the place and to steal the sugarcanes that taste sweet when chewed. They instigated me to join them. They said together we shall invade the place that is located one kilometre away on the outskirts of the town. Previous night that tractor was overturned while ferrying the sweet canes to the sugar mill situated at Tora of the Bargarh district.

[Prithvi Raj High School, Balangir]

Bunking the first class of the day i.e. mathematics, I joined the league of my friends. We might be six or seven students who picked our respective cycles and headed for the site of the accident. On reaching the location we found the presence of few residents living near around. They were gathering the scattered sugar canes so as to carry their homes. We were informed the tractor driver and the helper were injured and admitted in the district hospital. And their left no one to guard it. Immediately we took possession of the trolley as if we are the guardians of it. We started picking the sugarcanes. Holding each of the cane on the either side we broke them with our knees. Seating there on the side of the trolley we started chewing the sugar canes. My hands and the mouth were strewn with the juice of the sugar cane. While we were chewing the sugar canes a couple of buffalos reached and started pulling the leafs of the sugar cane out of the trolley load.

My comrade Sukta (literally means a skeleton) asked me “Do you know where the sugar comes from ?” I told from the grocery store. He laughed at me saying “hebo sala budbak” (you stupid). He said apart from white sugar, the yellow jaggery is also made by extracting and fermenting the juice of the sugar cane. I immediately recalled the mound of yellow Indian sweetener that my mother uses while making a few of Oriya sweet dishes like Kakra, Manda Pitha or Arisha. 

While chewing the sugar canes I shared with my friends the memories that were associated with this stuff. One summer noon I was caught red handed by my mother, while I was stealing this sweet stuff from the kitchen. When she was resting at the noon I invaded the kitchen. I placed a wooden stool and stood over it, my hands managed to reach the cupboard where my mother keeps the circular Amulspray box in which jaggery was stored. While I was opening the cap of it the box escaped from my hands and banged on the floor creating a noise. My mother woke up and rushed to the kitchen thinking it to be an invasion of a cat. I was yet struggling to open the cap when I got a thrash on my buttocks. I was shocked and turned back. My mother was standing there holding a broom in her hands. I left the place while crying. After a while she called me to the kitchen and gave a piece of jaggery to relish. She pacified for her action saying the punishment was given not for the jaggery, but for stealing it.     

At the venue of the tractor accident we too gathered a bunch of sugar canes and tied them with the leafs of it and loaded on our cycles. Even tried to fill  our rectangle school cloth bags with its pieces. In the mean while a friend spotted a jeep was approaching us. One of the batchmate Bhoku (literally means barking) raised the alarm, “It’s a police jeep, It’s a police jeep”. As if the culprits, out of fear we all fled from the place while carrying some sugar canes. It was noon hours and I straight away went to home for lunch. On reaching home my mother asked, “where have you been?”.  While throwing the school bag on the sofa with a exhausted voice I lied “To the school”. She pointed her finger on the collar of my shirt and asked what these dark spots are. I lowered my head and narrated the story of the invasion in which I participated along with the friends. She said the stains of the sugarcane juice will never erase during its life time and as a punishment I have to manage with that shirt until the end of the academic year. At evening I took out the school bag to do the pending homework, but was disturbed as could not find my mathematics notebook. I thought I might have left it in the classroom.  But I wondered where it went, as I did not entered the class room that day at all.

Next morning on reaching the school the peon came to the class. He asked me to summon on the Office of Head Master. I started shivering. He escorted me to the office of the head master. I was nervous since never before I was summoned like this. I guessed something terrible is going to happen. I went to his office to face the worst court martial ever. I entered his chamber and stood numb. He was evaluating the answer sheets of the just concluded half-yearly exams. He removed his thick black spectacles from his face and placed on the table. And he lifted a notebook and handed over to me. It was that missing mathematics note book, carrying my name in it. He asked if I was travelling in the sugarcane tractor that over turned two days back. I started shivering and sobbing. I was speechless. He said the police have recovered my note book at the spot of the accident and sent to the school. In the mean while the bell of the first class of the day rang. He alerted me saying “You may go to the class, but remember not to spill the beans while gathering the grains”.

kiranbima@gmail.com

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