I live at Shatpura, a small village in Moradabad district. The nearest town is Moradabad, some 25 km away. It is a small village, where about 225 families live. It is located in the midst of vast fields on all sides.
Our village is flanked by the national highway on the north and in the south is the River Ganga, barely 1 km from the heart of the village. To go to town, we have to tread about 5 km long kuchcha way to reach the national highway from where we can get a transport.
My village has a few graduates, some of whom are school teachers in a high school in the neighboring village. Others travel by bus to travel by bus to Moradabad or Rampur to earn their living. There is a post office, a charitable dispensary and a health centre nearby. The population of my village is around two thousand, including children. There are mostly mud houses with thatched roofs, and quite a few pucca buildings too.
Our village is really beautiful. In the spring, it appears just like an island. Here good rains bring good crops. Almost all villagers are cultivators. They welcome heavy rains during monsoons.
There is a gram panchayat in our village which looks after the interest of the villagers. Villagers feel for others and join hands to celebrate different festivals every year. The Chandimandap is the place where old people assemble to spend time in idle gossip. There is also a primary school attended by some 45 kids. It runs in a thatched building and is looked after by an elderly teacher. Students have to sit on mats on the ground. A wall has been painted black to work as a blackboard. The big pond, around which our village stands, is the only source of water. We use the pond for bathing, washing and even for drinking.
All said, it must be admitted that all villagers in my village are very poor and lead a very miserable life. It is only during the sowing and harvesting seasons that they can get two square meals a day. During the rest of the year they live in utter poverty. It is gratifying to note that the local youths are busy doing some constructive work in the village. I feel proud of my village when crops around the village flourish. It is all green that time. The villagers may not be well off, but they are simple and honest. I love my village as it is the abode of peace.
