The memory of old eyes

English translation by Satish Rawat of the Garhwali story "Budhadi Aankhyun Ki Khud" written by Satish Rawat, published in the July 2004 issue of "Yugavani" Hindi monthly magazine.

Original Story: "Budhri Ankhyun Ki Khud" Language: Garhwali

Author: Satish Rawat

English Conversion: Satish Rawat

The memory of old eyes

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High mountains are covered with fog.  It looks like heaven has come to the earth.  These rainy clouds sometimes cover the entire earth, sometimes are scattered here and there like broken beads and sometimes it starts blowing and raining in heaven.

The higher the height of these clouds, the higher are their thoughts.  It comes only one month in a year.  Month of spring.  Month of memories.  Even this month, they do not think of themselves, they keep raining for others. Along with our earth, it makes our hearts green as well.  These clouds of memories remind us of loved ones and strangers.  Children start reminiscing about their games, youth start reminding their friends, daughters-in-law and daughters remember their home towns and elderly people get emotional by remembering their old days.

It is raining.  The fog has now reached the peaks of the mountains.  Even the sun has not been seen for two-three days.  People are sitting in their homes.  Some people are sitting in each others houses to spend time.  Are talking.  *Khaja-Bukhana and *Bhatt are chewing.

Where will Padhani aunt eat Khaja-Bukhana and Bhatt, and how will she eat!  If daughters-in-law, sons, grandchildren were together, she would have tasted something with them.  It is not eaten alone.  She has become used to it after eating *Dhabari Roti and *Jhanguryal.

Padhani aunt is sitting alone in front of the stove.  Woods are burning in the stove.  Smoke escapes through a small window and doorway.  But Padhani aunt is not coming out like this smoke.  Even in looking out, it tears out the season of memories in her old eyes.

Padhani aunt remembers her old times by resting her waist on the wall adjacent to the stove.  She fell asleep while thinking.  She slept there kneeling in a piece of sack.  Then the thunder of the sky opened her sleep.  She felt as if the sky was saying, "O Padhani ! You are not alone.  I am with you, there is no one to talk to you, so come talk with me."

Padhani aunt woke up.  She saw that the fire was also extinguished.  Some coals were left.  She prepared a hookah and started smoking.  When she would draw her breath, the hookah would make jaggery-jaggery-jaggery sound, and when the hookah stopped gurgling, Aunt would start coughing.  Sometimes this merciless hookah would even tear it out.  Aunt loved it as much as her own children.  This coconut hookah had become an essential part of aunt's life.  At some time, uncle and aunt used to smoke this hookah together.  Old memories of aunt are attached to this hookah.  This hookah understood the language of aunt (sound of cough) and aunt understood its language (voice of hookah).  It seemed that both were talking among themselves.

Today there was a lot of upheaval in aunt's mind.  Many thoughts were coming to mind and old memories were being refreshed.  She was feeling that today she should weep whole heartedly and make her mind light.  Thinking this, Padhani aunt took a hookah and sat in threshold.  It was raining outside. Water stopped in the courtyard.  The drops of rain were shaking the water, but more than that aunt's heart was shivering.

Aunt began to remember that in her childhood, she used to ride a boat made of paper in the same water, with her companions, and jumped and splashed in the stagnant water.  In her youth, when she used to go for grass in the forests, then this rain gave so much pleasure to her body and mind!  But today scared to see this rain.  Don't know when a big flood will come and shed all the family members and leave only the old people.

Clouds were blowing here and there with the wind.  Aunt began to think, "How crazy are these clouds too, which are on the support of the wind.  Flowing here and there with wind without thinking.  O clouds! Now you have power, youth, so this wind is supporting you, but when you will not have strength, you will not be young, you have to be stuck in the distant sky, like me.  So do not trust anyone! Be your support yourself.  Today our own blood do not support, what confidence of strangers!"

The mountains standing far away are looking at the thirsty eyes of aunt and thinking how great it is that these eyes which are thirsty but still raining.  Padhani aunt, in whose part the culture of the mountain is inhabited, understood what the mountains were thinking.  She started talking to the mountains - "O mountains! You are great from births.  You have protected us from time to time.  We can never forget your fascination and pure love.  You are still standing gracefully in your place.  My mountains! You won, but we won even after losing.  We could not even return your love to you.  But I believe that one day your blood will definitely remember you.  After all, where will they leave his mother's feet !"

The murky water of the river is increasing slowly.  As it grows, the sound of the river is also increasing.  Padhani aunt's attention now shifted to the flood of the river- "Someone poor has told the truth that the water of the mountain and the sons never worked for him.  O friend river! How could I not stop my children, then how will you stop this water, which is carrying away the mud like gold and many precious gems?  Now look at me, I am the mother of four sons, two live in America and two in Delhi, but there are only four to speak today.  You must have been watching my condition."

Today, Padhai aunt has got many friends.  Today she felt in her life that she is not alone.  With him are hookah, stove, fire, smoke, courtyard, mountains, rain, wind, sky, clouds.  The whole nature is with him.  She tried to talk to others as well, but eyes started responding.  It started getting dark.  Beetle started making sounds.  The frogs started croaking.

Copyright © Satish Rawat

Conversion: Satish Rawat

23/05/2020

*Khaja - A dish made by soaking, boiling and roasting wheat, corn, soybeans and pulses. 

*Bukhana - A dish made by soaking rice, roasting it with jaggery water. 

*Bhatt - A species of soybean. 

*Dhabadi Roti - Bread made by mixing wheat flour with mandua (a kind of coarse grain eaten by poor men) flour. 

*Jhunguryal - Finely round grain, cooked and eaten like rice.