That was a cuckoo cooing period and
all the deciduous trees were picking up its enchant with afresh buds of leaves.
Grasses were extending their shoots with the gradual proceeding of the spring’s
glow. Peach trees were at the helm of its blossoms, and my village was flawlessly
adorned with flowers all around. It was a time of the year when every farmer
awoke to the break of dawn, it was a time of the season when the earth shudders
against the sharp piercing ploughshare and it was also a time of the day when
farming wind reverberated to the tune of farming activities.
Following a month of cold beaten
weather and quiet air, every rancher in the village hopped upon the agrarian
activities. Day turned out to be so busy increasingly laden with various works. So also,
my dear mother too ventured into the farming business. I was small then and
leave alone my brothers, even my sister wasn’t up to age to help her in any
substantive farming-related works. She had to endure a major share of hardships
in our family since Dad being "Lam Choep" who can’t practice farming in view of
upholding the Buddhist principle of abstaining from harming others (farming comes
at the cost of the life of countless insects).
Getting off the bed at an early call
of the rooster was nothing new for us however my mom wakes up much earlier than
us all. At the point when the day comes to life with each one adhering to the
time in their grasp, some hurried towards the field, others took their animals
to meadows while each individual accounted their obligation, I got up relishing the
smell of sumptuous meal and breakfasted thereafter which mom got it ready for us. She has
likewise packed the lunch including the share of me and my brother. I
accompanied mom to the field every day to babysit my youngest brother as he was
a child then. For which she required me at her disposal to look after him.
Underneath the broiling sun and in
the midst of a dry breeze, the farmers began to furrow, burrow and weed the
field. Farming is helped out as a team with neighbors through the principle of
reciprocity of their labour force over a specific number of days. I spent my
days more often than not, playing with other kids and roaming with piggy
bagging my brother along the edge of the field. I took him to mom to get breastfed
whenever he cried and else I took shelter beneath the shadow of tall plants and
trees.
As the Lunchtime moved toward the
span of the day I can vividly recall how I rushed towards my mother. I could smell
the rice and ezey. That’s a time where I had a good encounter with that plant. Taking
advantage of available “Momdrang” grown around the field, mom used to take ezey
for lunch instead of curry. Which is even time efficient while preparing lunch
against the rush of morning hour and it also serves wonder as an appetizer at the wearing
hours of a day. How delectable this root used to be as I savored sitting next
to my mom during the lunch break. Those were extremely sweet memory that I can’t
overlook across the length of my life. Thank you for sharing this picture
which has rekindled my bygone day’s memories.
