Saturday, 23 August 2014

Babu's mangoes

Babu, a strapping young man of 23 now, was in class 3 when we first went to the village. He had a stammer, and was a little slow in studies - but those minor things do not count in a village, where work, studies and play all together define a child's growing years.

Today he comes home whenever we are there, to sit and chat, or to simply sit. As do all his other c
lassmates, Madhu, Kumar, ... They used to come and 'study' at home through the evenings of all their school years, and our home space was theirs as they saw it.

We had our mango farm, and there would be a mango harvest thro' summer. The S.Cs had no land, and so even in this land of mangoes, mangoes were not plenty for them. So we use to keep a big mud pot at home full of mangoes, and the children would go and with closed eyes rummage and pull out a mango each daily ! Babu, today at 23, remembers those 'mango hunts' with fondness...

So these very small, almost meaningless random acts of happiness we share, mean more than we may guess. Practically they mean nothing, in actuality maybe everything.

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