THUMBPRINTNE SERIES: CHILDHOOD TALES
ARCHANA GOSWAMI remembers how she first learnt counting in Assamese by counting the train bogies
Childhood -- the very word brings up memories of misty pine clad hills, ŕushing streams and cool crisp air laden with the whiff of scented pine trees. My childhood was spent in the town of Shillong but Gauhati was also an integral part of it. In those days of long ago we had three months of winter holidays -- can any child nowadays imagine such a luxury? The hill near our house had small pools abundant in aquatic flora and fauna. The green mosses and ferns are fresh in my mind. The pools were full of insects and frogs and a few fishes. Walks in these spots were a full of discoveries which fascinated us. Once when we were studying the life cycle of a frog, I volunteered to bring some frog spawn. It was so exciting to see the tadpoles hatch out, develop legs and become frogs. No digital content can compete with it.
Those days most children walked to and from school. I remember the walk near the Fruit Garden. The fruit preservation centre and the rich fruity smell of the jams being prepared still invoke the memories of those walks home. The hedges were full of rambling roses whose sweetness filled the air. I am yet to find such roses elsewhere. Almost all houses had a few fruit trees. Our garden had plum, apricot, apple and pear trees. Come summer we gorged on these fruits, while my mother made jars and jars of the most fantastic jams and jellies.
And there were the picnics, family picnics and school picnics. There was no set times for picnics. We could leave for one whenever the weather was fair. The main attraction of these outings was the games we'd play on those open spaces, and sing and dance to our hearts' content. The food tasted divine and we never found fault with what was packed or cooked at the site. Our trusty Icmic cooker was our companion and in hindsight I realise that it took out a lot of the drudgery of cooking. Invented by Indumadhab Mullick in (1910), it contained a double-walled cylindrical metal unit into which water was poured. At the base of this portable tiffin carrier-like unit, there was a compartment where the charcoal was to be placed, and it had a small door with vents.
And the Christmas picnics where an entire village would venture forth. I can still hear the beats of those drums. They heralded Christmas. The bakeries of Shillong would be packed with cakes and other goods which we relished. In our opinion the two or three bakeries of Guwahati came a poor second. Shillong memories will always be associated with the sounds of the churchbells. They would ring to celebrate and toll to grieve. We even recognised the sounds of the individual churches.
Another favourite place was the State Central Library. It had a airy Children's section with a welcoming air and a large and varied collection of children's books. Every Sunday without fail we would land up there, with my father. We stayed there while he went off to do his errands. The librarian Baideo became a good friend and would give us a heads up about the new issues. My father was an avid reader and I owe my love of reading to the eclectic collection of books in his small library.
And then there was Durga Puja with all the glitter, dhulias, arati and the prasad, khisiri et al. New clothes, toys and the days of looking at the pandals and the evenings of jatra. What more could a child ask for? Then Dasami rolled around and we made the pilgrimage to Polo Ground to bid the godess farewell. Then the visit to Police Bazar to savour the singaras and jalebis in Delhi Mistan Bhandar.
As I said, Gauhati was also an integral part of my childhood. We used to come down once our winter holidays started. Life in Gauhati was different from our life in Shillong. Loads of cousins, rickshaws, trains, buses and all the crowds of people. I first learnt counting in Assamese by counting the train bogies. I was fluent till fifty and then I used to get stuck --- the trains were smaller in those days. Another amusing memory comes to mind. My mother was an expert knitter, a craft valued in the cold climate of Shillong. My sister and I used to come with beautiful knitted sweaters. After about ten days, my cousins and my cousins' cousins would all be wearing the same sweaters, albeit in different shades. We must've made quite a spectacle. And winter in Gauhati meant Saraswati Puja. Loads of fun with all the little girls decked up in mekhala sador and sarees and we would go round to the college hostels to admire the images. This was missing in Shillong.
It was an idyllic childhood but the dark clouds of war did not leave us untouched. The Sino-Indian conflict brought floods of refugees. I will never forget the monks in their scarlet robes spinning their prayer wheels --- so dignified and tragic --- I was very small but those huge black headlines in the papers and the lines of ambulances left an indelible mark. Then there were the clashes with Pakistan with the air raid sirens, and air raid drills. A little bit of tragedy in an otherwise idyllic childhood.
My childhood ended when my father was transferred to Delhi. We left the hills and rivers behind and translocated to the dusty and noisy streets of Delhi. I grew up then. Life goes on and the friends we made then are still friends. When we get together our talk invariably turns to our childhood days in the hills of Assam. Those were the days my friends, we thought they would never end.
----------------
Archana Goswami did her schooling from Loreto Convent, Shillong and Delhi Public School, Mathura Road. Graduated from Miranda House, Delhi with Honours in Chemistry. She completed her Ph.D in Biochemistry from Gauhati Medical College. She retired from Cotton College, Guwahati as the head of department of Chemistry. Apart from academic activities she was deeply involved in science popularisation programmes. Currently, she is working for the advocacy of Child Rights and is a member of MATRI, an NGO working in that field. She loves travelling and meeting new people.
.jpg)
 (1).jpg)
