That was the last glimpse that I had of the land.
Once a playground for me, a school that taught the secrets of nature, a loyal listener to all my childish humming.
As the four wheeler geared up the speed forward, the pain, unknown made its presence in me to remain for years to come.
Kurnool
The night was dark, with dripping raindrops and hurriedly settled for the night. The sunrise was a preparation for the years to come. The big building stood in a forlorn look with red soil on one side and pure black mud on the other. The way to the gate was perched around a space, that could be guessed as a small garden. There was around one acre land in its untouched mode.
Father took to the task. He got the land ploughed and that was the first experience of looking at the soil in close quarters. The soil opening up itself to the machine, the unwanted plants being rooted out, caught my fascination for years to come. The wait for rains was a long one and father did not wait. He divided the land into parts to grow vegetables, crops and flowering plants. What a variety to look for?
The first sight of life from soil was a wonderful one. We planted beans seeds at the hedge so the plant could easily grow. We were pouring water from the tank. Every day morning it is a ritual to look for the first leaves of the plant. For one week there was no sign of life. One big rain through out the night, and pat showed up two green leaves with a shine of life, surrounded by the black soil! What a sight to cherish. That hooked my pulsing heart to the nature. What an experience to touch the soil, the tender leaves, and look for the buds, flowers, and feel the fully grown veggies appear as shy kids behind those leaves.
The birds chirping sounds, the raw bananas prospering into yellow fruits, the ground nut plants secretly hiding the nuts only to be plucked to devour. The variety of flora was as vast as the area. The tamarind tree, and guava tree looked like the elders of the group. The banana trees with all the water and muddy soil, speak a different language. The softness of the earth worms was friendly answer to the plant's call for nutrition.
The roses, lillies, chrysanthemums, hibiscus, zinnias, jasmines, and what not, you name the plant, we had it. That was a life close to nature, knowing the nature, playing with nature. Father's ritual of transfer, wiped out everything and uprooted me to another land. What is the name of it, doesn't matter. This land is gone forever.
The evening of departure from Kurnool was the saddest day. The dog, whom we groomed with love, the plants, the flowers and the soil - turning their reality into memory - never to be seen again.
The Last seem gloominess of the vast land stays with me as a simple memory of my Land!
-- noenglish
Once a playground for me, a school that taught the secrets of nature, a loyal listener to all my childish humming.
As the four wheeler geared up the speed forward, the pain, unknown made its presence in me to remain for years to come.
Kurnool
The night was dark, with dripping raindrops and hurriedly settled for the night. The sunrise was a preparation for the years to come. The big building stood in a forlorn look with red soil on one side and pure black mud on the other. The way to the gate was perched around a space, that could be guessed as a small garden. There was around one acre land in its untouched mode.
Father took to the task. He got the land ploughed and that was the first experience of looking at the soil in close quarters. The soil opening up itself to the machine, the unwanted plants being rooted out, caught my fascination for years to come. The wait for rains was a long one and father did not wait. He divided the land into parts to grow vegetables, crops and flowering plants. What a variety to look for?
The first sight of life from soil was a wonderful one. We planted beans seeds at the hedge so the plant could easily grow. We were pouring water from the tank. Every day morning it is a ritual to look for the first leaves of the plant. For one week there was no sign of life. One big rain through out the night, and pat showed up two green leaves with a shine of life, surrounded by the black soil! What a sight to cherish. That hooked my pulsing heart to the nature. What an experience to touch the soil, the tender leaves, and look for the buds, flowers, and feel the fully grown veggies appear as shy kids behind those leaves.
The birds chirping sounds, the raw bananas prospering into yellow fruits, the ground nut plants secretly hiding the nuts only to be plucked to devour. The variety of flora was as vast as the area. The tamarind tree, and guava tree looked like the elders of the group. The banana trees with all the water and muddy soil, speak a different language. The softness of the earth worms was friendly answer to the plant's call for nutrition.
The roses, lillies, chrysanthemums, hibiscus, zinnias, jasmines, and what not, you name the plant, we had it. That was a life close to nature, knowing the nature, playing with nature. Father's ritual of transfer, wiped out everything and uprooted me to another land. What is the name of it, doesn't matter. This land is gone forever.
The evening of departure from Kurnool was the saddest day. The dog, whom we groomed with love, the plants, the flowers and the soil - turning their reality into memory - never to be seen again.
The Last seem gloominess of the vast land stays with me as a simple memory of my Land!
-- noenglish
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