29 Mar 2022

My Village From Memories




I grew up on a hill  

With a Church next to my home

There were no roads back then

A path could let only one person walk

Along the steepness of the hill

I dreamed of a road and buses plying 

one day 

The tapioca fields filled the barren land 

Coconut trees filled the other parts 

A narrow river was the lifeline 

of the paddy fields on the plains

There was an unfinished temple

On one shore of the river 

There was a low stone bridge connecting the hills

Often get flooded during the monsoon

People used to catch fish using primitive ways 

Sand miners dived from boats 

 to dig sand from the depths

Leaving many deep patches in the river 

The paddy fields had big frogs and snakes

that was after them

Farmers used bullocks to till the paddy fields

and the mud spliced like art 

Ponds dotted the landscape 

With source nearby 

Small streams took the water towards

the paddy fields 

On holidays we used to sit on the walls

To look at the vehicles and rare buses 

A small forest of rubber trees 

Dotted in some parts

The market was vibrant with local produce

fish and other essentials 

It hosts events at night sometimes 

All major shops and restaurants were

closer to the market 

People kept slices of coconut to dry on the road

The aroma of coconut oil draws 

When you get nearer to the cold pressers 

During summer paddy fields made way for 

beans and vegetables

Some others tried their luck with plantains 

The telephone was rare in those days 

Even telly was there in a few homes

And the neighbours flock to watch 

Until the voltage goes down in the eve

VCRs were hired to play movies 

On the day before weddings 

The stages and shades were set up with

Areca nut poles and coconut leaves 

People were sent to faraway places

To inform the death 

The whole village helped in the mourning 

Older people would relish their paan

Old loudspeakers were tied to the electric poles

and trees during the festivals 

A canal brought water from the Neyyar dam

for the farmers in the hills 

I spent a lot of time playing in that canal 

In front of my home 

And I remember a literacy program 

That helped the elderly people 

To learn to read and write 

And the people used to share the fruits

in their land with the neighbours

And there were drunkards who loved 

drinking nearby the river and the canal slab

 

Image from Unsplash 


4 comments:

Paul (Paul Passing Through) said...

I read this and two of your other most recent poems. I enjoyed reading these. Your language is very illustrative and descriptive; I felt like I could perfectly see the scenes you were describing!

Ranjana N. said...

Beautiful!

Baby Boomer Super Saver said...

Such a lovely poem! I felt transported by the many images and emotions that flowed through this poem. Enjoyed it very much. Keep writing!

https://www.BabyBoomerSuperSaver.com

Nithin RS said...

Thanks for your comments. It gives the inspiration to write more and better.