In the midst of a mountain of memories:


Out of station I was for the last few days getting back only yesterday. This outing included one full day at my village home in Bahraich (U.P.,India), nothing less than a paradise for me in whatever the circumstances –pleasant or even adverse at times. Visiting my village, my sweet home, is always reminiscent of a Himalaya of memories right from the days of my childhood and onwards. Off home, I was never happy, in the midst of it, I always felt soothingly relaxed even in the situations and happenings otherwise negative. I raise a question to myself at times as to what is so special about my village home?. Nothing so special actually as it is as good a place as any village any where in the rural areas of the country. My mental faculties trace an answer to this telling that the very earth smells to me so sweet and fragrant because of my physical involvement with it intrinsically placing me to a spot where I feel and realise a mountain of solemn memories flashing before my eyes as a live film reminding me of the cows, the calves, the bulls and the buffalos playfully roaming in the pastures of the greeneries chewing and swallowing whatever they could trespass as their food unmindful of the servants guarding and pointing them their directions with a stick. They had strict instructions  as from my mother never to be harsh to the animals, and equally we the children had her directions in strict terms never to call them by their names, instead her advice was to address them as bhaiyya, kaka, and the like based on their age group treating them with love and respect as if they were the part of the family. Servants (now helper or domestic help) in their turn loved us in a big  measure always prepared to shed their blood for us. What an atmosphere of a close affinity with an element of kinship it was for us to roam with them in the fields and the pastures, thoroughly full of love all around. Nothing like any malice or prejudice was visible even remotely. A world of an enormous satisfaction and peace was at our disposal both in house and outside. Although our family was that of great Zamindars, my mother was deadly opposed to any kind of feudalistic behaviour with the result that our domain was peace and harmony, and not at all that of reservation and bitterness. The memories read in conjunction with the over all congeniality prevalent in the family are now left only as a pointer that what surrounds us today has a sky high contrast in comparison to what is treasured by us tranquilly as a matter of those sweet memories of the days gone back far behind.

Advertisements

Author: neelkanth

Certainly not a celebrity but do have inquisitiveness to know things, realise them and live them to the extent possible. My interest in History, Art of Living and behavioural science is an element that inspires me.Am a poet,an author,a consultant, an advisor on computers and behavioural science.Served as Director in Central Board of State Bank of India.Remained associated with trade union activities and industrial relations as President,All India State Bank of India Staff Federation.Led a delegation on computers to several countries abroad number of times as from State Bank of India/ Banking Industry. Was twice accorded with NATIONAL AWARD FOR EXCELLENCE by All India Freelance Journalists Association, Chennai (India). My email address is: neelkanthshahi@gmail.com

9 thoughts on “In the midst of a mountain of memories:”

  1. I REALLY ENJOYED YOUR BLOG, SIR AND COULD FEEL WHAT YOU WOULD HAVE GONE THROUGH WHEN YOU VISITED YOUR VILLAGE HOME. I AM OF THE FIRM VIEW THAT OLD GOOD MEMORIES WARM YOU UP FROM INSIDE AND NOTHING IS EVER REALLY LOST TO US AS LONG AS WE REMEMBER IT. MEMORIES ARE THE ONLY REAL TREASURE IN YOUR HEAD AND ARE BETTER THEN DIAMONDS AND NOBODY CAN STEAL THEM FROM YOU. MEMORY IS THE DIARY WE ALL CARRY ABOUT WITH US.

    Like

  2. Sir. I am fortunate to have seen your native place and have been there twice. Every time I felt a dignity and peace there. In fact that is the place, atmosphere and ultimately mother divine’s inspiration which made a boy in you to a noble man and ultimately- M.R. Awasthi- The Great on which the coming generations will feel proud. I can understand the storming memories in your mind. We have a great honor for your affection to your native place sir.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s