Those Summer Morning Walks

                 

The quaint little town of Andul was inhabited by a few hundred people who knew each other all too well. They were friends or neighbours, acquaintances or relatives. There were the old men who trudged along for morning walks, young chaps who flocked around at the market place or the ladies troop who gathered around the puchkawala.

One such simpleton was old Mr Manna. He was one among the old residents of this town. Every morning at the crack of dawn he and his friends would take the mile-long walk to the railway station. This summer the old men had the company of a little sprightly girl and her tiny white furball, Jimmy. Five-year-old Dona was Mr Manna’s granddaughter and Jimmy was her pet spitz. This year she was spending her summer vacation with her grandparents. 

‘Come now little one, don’t wander away’ Mr Manna would often call out to Dona and her pup. 

The old men were thrilled to have this little girl for company. Her abundant energy kept them rattling tale after tale to her. Dona was an eager listener and couldn’t get enough of stories.

‘Grandpa Mitter, would you tell me the story of the mango tree Giant again? I won’t be scared today, I promise’, Dona said pleadingly.  

Mr Mitter rubbed his chin and said, ‘hmm…so you see little one, there was once a giant who lived in the mango tree that stood behind my house…’

As the story followed Dona and Jimmy trotted along the path collecting wildflowers and greeting the townsfolk.

‘You’re late today, Kanai uncle’, Dona chirped as Kanai smirked and cycled past her with his cart full of bread.

Then as they neared the field, there was no stopping Jimmy and Dona from running amuck among the dewy wet grasses.

‘Look at those munchkins!’ the women piped as they queued around the squeaky tubewell to fill their pitchers.

When they reached the railway station, the old men ordered tea from Bishu’s tea stall at the platform. Dona and Jimmy carefully sneaked away and climbed the foot-over bridge to visit the town on the other side. But hardly had the reached the middle of the bridge than the train came rumbling and shot its loud whistle. Dona and Jimmy trembled and crouched low in fear. The burst of laughter made Dona look up with wide eyes.

‘Want to sneak away alone anymore?’ Pintu dada asked as Dona shook her head vigorously.

When Pintu took Dona and Jimmy to the old men, they all chuckled and asked, ‘How was the trip Dona?’ 

‘I-I’m sorry’, Dona mumbled tearfully before her grandpa wrapped her in his arms and soothingly said, ‘It’s okay. Next time we will take the trip to the other side together.’

Today, Dona is a grown woman and lives in a lifeless city. Her Grandpa and Jimmy had died. But the memories of these early mornings and the simpletons of Andul have brought her closer to life and have taught her to cherish the simple joys of life.