Two hours in the cramped up train carriage that took us from Kolkata to Debipur was a fun and exciting journey, and the beautiful view of the fields outside was a good enough reason to not fall asleep in an awkward position.
The sun was beginning to set when we got off at Debipur station, although it was hardly after 5 pm. It was considerably easy to find our next mode of transport; or rather, they found us. In that little town, we stood out like a sore thumb.
A blue toto was waiting for us. These battery-powered three wheelers were a better alternative to auto-rickshaws, considering their efficiency, low cost and the fact that they are environment-friendly. All six of us (with our baggage, mind you) managed to squeeze in and not fall off, all throughout the bumpy and thrilling ride.
The toto came to a stop outside the house where the wedding reception was going to be, and while everyone else went in to get ready for the party, my dad and I headed out to do something before we missed the opportunity - explore the fields.
The sun was setting and it was getting dark. We walked through the mango garden and got to the other side. This time, we stepped down and walked into the fields. And there it was.
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| Paddy fields: up close and personal |
I don't think a lot of people from my generation has seen paddy fields, at least not where I come from. It's a rare sight in Kerala these days; I doubt it even exists. I had to come all the way to West Bengal to see something that was an all too common sight in my parents' childhood.
By then, a man from the house and a couple of boys (from the neighborhood, I assume) joined us, and graciously showed us around the paddy fields, and the adjoining land, where they grew all sorts of fruits and vegetables.
It was getting dark, and the festivities were starting. We came out of the fields and our guide suggested that we take the long way back, just so we can see more of the village. We walked down the little streets, taking in the sights, sounds and smells I knew I would hate to leave behind. The air, unpolluted and unconstrained, the chatter of the chickens, dogs, goats and cows, and fields as far as the eye can see, into which the sun so untimely sunk; all of this carried breathtaking beauty.
It was night time, when we got back to the house. We had seen almost a dozen ponds on our little hike and the heat had made us seriously consider jumping in. And we would have, if we weren't late for a party. We could have stayed here for a week and still not have seen enough or done enough. That's what this village did to me. It showed me what I was missing, living in the city.
We came back to the house and I remembered, to my disappointment, that we would have to leave Debipur in a few hours. After a quick shower and dressing up, we went down to the party.
Later that night, we got into the car with our packed bags and headed for Barddaman Railway Station, but not before bidding adieu to our delightful hosts and all the wonderful people we met in Debipur. These people gave us a home miles away from our own. And we are eternally grateful. As the car pulled out, I made a silent promise - I would do everything in my power to come back.
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