By- Rabin Prasad Kalita
Saw a pair of ‘Blue Throated Barbet’ desperately flying hither and thither, when I was wandering around the quad. I being a birder, wanted to know what they were looking for, out of my nosiness. Moreover, that was the spring breeding copulation period to extend their family.
I was almost confirmed, seeing their promiscuous relationship in-between, that, possibly, they were searching for a suitable place for a nest. Eventually, they selected a dry dead tree that stood in front of our courtyard, across the road. Both of them were in hurry to hollow out a cavity nest akin to their shape and size.
Instead of enjoying alone, I called up my wife to rejoice together. The progress of their eye-catching ceaseless efforts made us so humble and excited. Placed my camera on stealthily without troubling their on-going work, and started capturing their innumerous breathtaking actions. Sensing my harmless activities, both of them took me in faith gradually. By the end of the second day, a beautiful cavity nest was almost made ready on to their complacence.
But hardly one knows how long the canopy of happiness shades on one’s life! It may last for a substantial period or may collapse at any time. Therefore, one has to live with the present, with a little hope to outlast beyond.
On the third day evening soon I reached home after a daylong work, I could notice the dejected mood of my wife. She was almost with her soaked eyes while briefing me wistfully about the fate of that pair of Barbet. Hearing this, I was taken aback and ruptured. Alas, the tree where the unfortunate pair of barbet drew their dreams to raise their chicks was felled by our neighbor for firewood.
The next morning, both of them were chanting hither and thither looking at the missing tree, lest they find that somehow. Two days of hard work as per the plan, and earnest aspiration were ruined in a minute. Sadly, after a couple of hours, they had to fly away in search of a viable place incubating an indomitable hope. Perhaps, they would find another tree nearby to execute their dream into a success!
There are a lot of unforeseen barricades in human life too but success remained with one who can negotiate well with the existing situations. Only a sufferer can visualize the pain of any such unpredictable eventualities.
A similar paradigm, I would like to bring forth about how we had to go through such mayhem while revamping our own house. Though we were too small to take part actively, the things are still not blurred in our mind. No one can forget one’s sorrowful days for sure. But its remembrance excels one to be stronger to fight back any such likelihood.
My Dad had been working in a Grade three category posts in the State Government. The salary he received was not sufficient enough to feed and sustain six members in our family back home, though the standard of living was very simple, in those days. There was no expense on the internet, phone, television, cable, electricity, various gadgets, cooking gas, micro oven, refrigerator, washing machine, and a long list. He even had to drop his plan each month to purchase a bicycle, thinking, lest he falls short of money to meet the maintenance on both ends.
People in the seventies/eighties engaged in cultivation seemed much healthier, in terms of their earnings than the ones who did Government jobs. I heard my Dad having conversations with mom for several occasions to renovate our old thatched house to the tin shade. In fact, plans were well chalked out but when the requisite financial requirement punched the intent, the matter was dropped for the next time.
So on, the word ‘next time’ consumed a decade. He dared not to touch the house for restoring work in case that remained unfinished for short of cash. Each time, keeping the plan pinned in his mind, he kept on proceeding to his place of duty after exhausting his spell of leave.
Being an ardent house maker, my mom had no option left, except to nod and listen to him. It was not that my mom was unaware of the prevailed financial obligations. She was clever enough, though her education was just the upper primary level.
We had sufficient numbers of betel nut (Tambool) trees along with betel leaves (paan) in our backyard which yielded abundantly every year. My mom used to sell those at home in lump sum to the bulk dealers. She added some amount to spend for our daily requirements. The rest she kept in safe custody, so that she could contribute in the hour of need.
Moreover, she cultivated silk moths at home for Eri-silk yarn by which she weaved many beautiful shawls for all of us. The excess shawls were sold out in the market, which fetched her high value. Thus, she made a good amount of money and kept on putting in a stem cavity between two nodes of a bamboo pole. Bamboo posts were fixed for supporting the sidewalls of our house. It was like today’s pedagogical piggy bank that taught us the rudiments of thrift and savings.
Next time when Dad came home on leave, had the same discussion stirred once again while dining together. This time my mom smiled a little and without talking much, she pointed her fingers towards the bamboo pole. Simultaneously, she handed over a knife to Dad to open up the internodes of the bamboo cavity. Dad took the knife right away showing a sign of jeer to mom, with the word, “let’s cut and open up”.
After opening the big stem cavity, he got shocked and lost his words to appreciate her. It was almost filled with coins and paper currencies. How come she could save such a huge amount of money? My Dad got besieged with wetted eyes sensing that would be a massive contribution towards the refurbishment of our ancestral house. Somehow the old rooftop was changed into the tin sheets without further delay for which my Dad had to extend his leave for a couple of days more.
We were happy to live under the new shade though the tin sheets were fixed and tighten up with bamboo sticks. And thus our night ordeals were over. Earlier throughout the monsoon season, we were to sit somewhere in a safe place, to save ourselves from the number of seepages of the thatched roof. We witnessed many terrible nights, counting every second, prayed for the Sun God to reappear morning in the clear sky.
Ah! Our happiness didn’t last long. God might have been checking our tallness of endurance. One day in a bad evening of mid-June in the same year, almost half of our tin roof had been blown away by a deadly thunderstorm. We all got worried about its reinstallation once again. Soon the storm got calm and still, we all went out along with other ill-fated neighbors, in search of our every bit of lost belongings, throughout the night.
Found everything that we lost, and restructured as before. But do we know what comes next? The answer is simply a ‘no’. Asylum of hope lies in the face of helplessness. I do remember a proverb that read somewhere in my schooling days that well fits into this context, i.e. “Man proposes God disposes”.
