Monsoon Sojourn

I was always enthralled by the idea of wandering into the rural villages of North India, exploring the lives there. I wouldn't be lying if I say that this love for the village charm started way back when I was small.

My memory goes back to that colourful sketch of the Panchayati Raj on my 7th standard civics textbook. I remember back then, harboring a secret passion to be amidst the huge banyan tree under which men, women and even children, dressed in colorful attires, sat, listening to the old man in the white kurta and dhoti. I dreamt of breathing in the village aroma that was so alien to a 13 year old living in a town in Kerala.

Let me attribute my curious love for  North Indian food to a short story, that was prescribed in our English prose text at school. I confess that I do not remember the title of the story, the writer or even the basic plot line. All I can remember is the description of a road side snack given in elaborate detail in the story. I was so encaptured by the snack that the moment I reached home after the hectic school hours, I made my first North Indian snack! The lollipop made with tamarind, salt and chilly powder! I can't tell you how many lollipops I relished that evening and how the sourness of the tamarind tampered with my teeth and salivary glands, that for a couple of days my mouth was immune to all other tastes except sour.

Slowly, along with my sister I started exploring more such goodies as we churned up bread chaats, Bhel puris, pakoras, dahi puris in our South Indian kitchen.

Cookbooks on Bengali sweets, the huge collection of Rajasthani dupatas, the colorful artifacts that adorn the walls of our home, further add to my fascination for a place I wanted to explore.

So, last week when I finally got to live my long time childhood dream, I was excited! And, yes! I spotted the Banyan tree under which the old man sat. Though painted mud pots took the old man's space, it only added to that charm I longed to experience ten years ago. The men, women and children from my civics textbook came alive right in front of me, as I travelled across the long roads of Haryana.
Though the bus didn't entertain its passengers with music, the driver- conductor camaraderie and their loud joyous conversation gave me enough of entertainment. The 'fashionable' looking girls who jumped into the bus mid-way made their presence felt through their amazingly quick splattering of Haryanvi.  The blazing hot afternoon left me parched till I got hold of the chilled mineral water bottle.

I enjoyed the bumpy rickshaw drive and the local bus drive the best simply because I could see a lot of things that an Indigo flight cannot afford to offer. I admit that the air travel leaves you fresh even after travelling across continents, but  very little to ponder over for days. Though I spent almost three days in the "land of the Gods", I wonder how time flew, thanks to Rajesh, who took care of me through the entire sojourn.

The first astonishing sight which pulled me to Haryana was that of a maruti car burning itself into ashes and the giant trail of smoke that rose up the sky and, of course the crowd that was busy capturing away the disaster with awe!

Haryana treated me with hot oil-glaced parathas and pickles. And, how can I forget the burger made with shredded cabbage, tomato, mayonanaise and aloo tikki sandwiched between deep fried buns . And the many,many cups of tea served in the smallest of the smallest cups!

As we drove across the tiny, dusty paths of Mahendergarh, (pronounced 'Mahender ghat' with the stress on 'ghat', credit to Rajesh for the special phonetic training!), I came across the cattle bustling amidst the vehicles, the men who wiled away their time on beds overlooking the blue sky, the yellow coloured besan preparing its way to becoming yummy-moti laddoos, the huge flock of sheep, the mountainous green terrain and the University nestled comfortably in its lap.
I am happy that we went there during monsoon, for the rain kept the 'busy old fool' largely away. I particularly enjoyed my train travel to Delhi in the AC compartment, with picturesque landscapes flipping aside my window, providing me company for more than three hours.
With the rain splashing at my windowsill and the chai-walla's "chaya chaya", as opposed to the usual "chai chai", I came to realise that I can keep myself happy at simple things. Simple, unnoticed, yet colourful things-  which takes me back to the tagline of my blog.

Thanks Haryana for treating me well!!!