Essays

A good friend of mine is my room-mate in the school hostel. He hails from a village in Haryana. He had been inviting me off and on to visit his village. During the summer vacation he repeated the invitation.

Before the winter vacation he had to leave for his Village early. I promised him that this time I will avail of his kind invitation.

On closing of school, the next morning, I packed my l lungs. I wanted to travel light. I took a Haryana roadways bus that goes via his village. In a couple of Hours I was there. The bus stop is close to the railway station which is a few kilometers away from the village.   Instead of sitting in a bullock cart, I chose to walk down.  The weather was fine with cool breeze blowing all along.

It was a pleasure to walk, cross country, following the path through the fields. My friend had given me the directions. I could breathe fresh and pure air. Around were cornfields and fields with wheat and gram crops.  There were mustard fields too—the yellow flowers were swimming in the gentle breeze and sugarcane fields were Many. There were tall trees here and there, with a lot "I greenery around. Small birds were chirping. The village atmosphere was relatively quiet. People were many with their errands. Womenfolk brought food for   their men in the fields. Wells were overworked for water    domestic consumption and for the fields. Potassium permanganate powder was thrown in the wells. Not all houses were pucca—but the village seemed quite 1'ninperous.

My friend was there at the outskirts of the village to welcome me. He took me to his genial parents and his I not hers and sisters. I was given a liberal dose of Buttermilk.

My things were placed in a long room with a charpoy. He took me round the village and introduced me to people that mattered. Men folk have a sense of humour. Womenfolk, I found, have a lot of common sense and rustic wisdom.

Things were improving in the village as was with the district. Not all houses had electricity though. Underground water was tapped only at a few points. But my friend loves his ancestral village for they have a house, a joint family and agricultural land.

 I stayed on for a couple of days. People sleep early, and get up by break of dawn. People have goosed to living without city amenities. There is a lot of co-operation. Village people get together whenever any family needs help—or in times of sorrow or joy. The medical centre is a few kilometers away—so are the post office and rural bank and educational institution. I got used to the routine. I visited fields in my friend's company and saw firsthand how the farmers toil hard bringing up the crop as if bringing up children. Villagers' hard work is exemplary. I found the men and women tall and sturdy and fair. Some of the girls were very beautiful. Hard routine keeps them in good shape.

I was given an affectionate send-off. My friend put me in the bus bound for Delhi. The change did me good. I ate a lot of papaya, drank milk and had dahi. Urud dal and hot chapattis from the firewood chullah served as food. I forgot tea. My friend is fairing well academically. His parents are supporting him steadfastly.

We are sorry to Part Company. But the rural experience was very cheering. I was all praise of my friend who despite his rural background was progressing so well.