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The next morning
There were mosquitoes no doubt, but they did not manage to bother us
through the mosquito net. So I had a good sleep, and I hope the same was
true for my companion. At 6 I hopped out of our room to explore the
surroundings.
It was semi dark outside and cold. But the coldness in the countryside
has an endearing
warmth in it that is often missing in a city. One of the poets was already
up, and he was followed soon by the sun, which was up too.
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Sunrise
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I wish my camera had a lens on either side. Only then could it hope to
capture the beauty of the moon that was setting in the opposite
horizon. The waxing sun in the east and the waning moon in the west, even
I felt like a poet. But no, I must control myself...Bhalopahar has already
too many of that species!
As the light grew stronger, I could see lots of white patches everywhere
on the fields around me. Curious as to their nature, I looked closer to
find that they were formed by tiny droplets of dew accumulating on
cobwebs.
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Dew on cobweb
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Beyond the field was a large pond with a number of large
Mahuya trees beside it. Sanjit who was also up with his camera, could see
some migratory birds, which however eluded my less experienced eyes.
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The pond
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I liked the shape of the tree to the right. It was ideal for a pencil
sketch. But a closer inspection revealed that it was under the attack of
termites. Mahuya flowers are (in)famous for the inebrieting liquor brewed
from it locally. This commodity is sold very cheap throughout the
area. Mahuya seeds, I was told, are a source of vegetable oil.
The sun was quite bright when I returned to the guest house campus. The
garden inside looked really charming.
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Sunrise
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There in the sunshine a bunch of us sat together and drank fresh
"khejurer ras" (date juice).
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Date juice and modern, Bengali poetry
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The juice was fresh, and not fermented. But still one of the poets
could not resist
the temptation to recite a snatch from
modern Bengali poem. It is still sticking to my memory like "paner pik" on
the wall of a waiting room. Careful to share every experience, sweet or
bitter, with my readers, I cannot but present two lines...
akasher lal bal kapaler upoma hoye roilo,
pa porlo paposer modhye...
Unable to bear the poetic tension, I got up for another walk...
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