Back in good old school days, summer vacation meant going to Naani's place in Jalandhar. Naïve that I was, for me Naani's place and Jalandhar were one and the same thing. We ( me and my sister ) were told by our parents that we have to finish our holidays homework fast or we won't be going to Jalandhar. This threat / incentive was so big, that we always ended up finishing our homework in a week's time, so that the remaining six weeks of vacation could be spent in Jalandhar - our storehouse of childhood memories.. All the pampering and the little things that made us happy. Escape from monotony to a different kind of monotony which we thoroughly loved and enjoyed.
This routine of vacation was broken when we shifted to Nagpur and I don't even remotely remember the summer vacations spent there.
I recently read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and she used a sanskrit word 'antevasin' to describe herself. Simply put, it means someone who lives on the periphery. My happy place in Jalandhar is somewhat similar. We live at the periphery of city and very close to rural area - somewhere in the middle, which has its own perks.
And this is why I have this story, which I couldn't help recalling after coming here again after a very long time.
The activities of summer evenings at Naani's place included us going to the 'khoo' to fetch milk.( 'Khoo' simply translated as well - but implies the area around it - the house that owns the well, the fields and most importantly milch cattle! Punjabi kid? Might have heard grandma say - khoo vich pai jaa!!) One fine summer evening, when I was in 8th I guess and my little girl cousin, Nancy was in 1st. We, alongwith my elder sister and Maasi, went for our usual Khoo trip. The residents/ owners of the khoo- the old couple- they were kind enough to offer us the turnips growing in the fields ( Yay freebies!). My elder sister and Maasi went ahead to the field to get turnips and the two of us - me and my cousin were left by the tube well, where we waited for them.
Me, the little imp Nancy and the tube well.
Nancy happily climbed up the mossy tube well wall. Water was gushing through it. Needless to mention, it looked slippery. Was slippery. I was about to tell her to come down when *plop* she fell into it! My voice froze in my throat and I couldn't move for a while. I couldn't think of anything to do. I ran to the tube well, caught hold of her arm - which slipped through my hands. I was scared, trembling with fear and almost in tears. I tried again, this time holding both her arms and I pulled her out. To my horror and surprise, she was still laughing. Peeked at the tube well, let out a sigh of relief because it was not very deep. I tried scolding her, but I'm not sure what came out of my mouth. She said :
" Accha didi, ab tube well ke paas nahi jaungi....well ke paas jaaungi!"
I looked at the dry well adjacent to the tube well. Imagined what could happen. Shuddered. I really wanted to hit her.
To my good fortune, she didn't get a chance to climb the well boundary. My elder sister and Maasi returned (with turnips). We headed back home. I was a star after this little act of bravery.
Today, I am even more grateful for the fact that back then, she wasn't her rolu-polu self ( read plump) that she is today.
I still love the khoo trips. With everything around changing rapidly, it still has much beauty, simplicity and memories to offer. Its beautiful :)
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