Rustic Repast
The children peered into the dense foliage of the two trees half expecting to see a child or some children from the village.
“I wonder who it is...” muttered Jai. He then called loudly, “Show yourself, otherwise if I find you, I’ll break your bones.”
“Jai... Sneha... Children... Come on in here. Wash your hands and come quickly.”
Just then they heard their mother calling out.
“Coming Amma...” they replied in unison.
They took one last look at the two trees waving their branches quietly in the afternoon breeze and hurried to wash their hands.
~~~
“Ahh... Here they are. Come quickly, children. It’s already one o’ clock. Both of you must be hungry. Let’s have lunch,” Savita Kaki said opening an archaic copper tiffin.
“Aaloo ka parantha… Boondi raita… Mango pickle… Yummy!” crooned the children in delight as they sat down.
“This is a feast!” exclaimed Jai happily, tucking in.
“Shambu Maharaj is an excellent cook,” agreed Lata drinking some raita from a rustic leaf bowl. “He goes all out of his way to prepare delicious meals.”
“Shambu is elated to see you and the children, Lata. He pours out his happiness through his cooking. His food speaks of his moods. I’m sure there will be boondi laddoos when we reach home,” laughed Savita Kaki.
“I love boondi laddoos,” interjected Sneha. “In the big city we couldn’t get them often, though. Can I eat two?”
“Yes, my dear. You can eat four. Both of you are growing children. You must eat well,” Savita Kaki said fondly.
“Now… Now… Sneha, you mustn’t be greedy. What did I teach you?” Lata said, looking sternly at her younger one.
“No Lata. Don’t stop them. They’ve come home after so many years. I missed you and the children. At least let me spoil them for a few days,” Savita Kaki said lovingly. “I’ll tell Shambhu Maharaj to make some ker-sangri for you. Do you think you’ll like that?”
“What is ker-sangri?” Jai asked curiously.
“It’s a speciality of this part of the land. Ker are tiny fruits which are extremely sour. You must’ve eaten their pickle…” Savita Kaki looked at them hopefully.
“You’ve eaten ker ka aachar. Haven’t you?” prompted Lata. “Yes?”
“Those small-small green things like berries…” Sneha said eagerly.
“Yes, exactly. They are green, tiny and round in shape,” Savita Kaki said. “And, sangri are the long beans of the khejri tree. They grow in plentiful in and around our area. The beans are harvested in April and May, after which they are dried. These dried beans are then cooked with ker.”
“Can we go and pick the beans?” Jai asked expectantly.
“No way!” Lata said at once. “Both of you aren’t going into the wilderness.”
“Into the wilderness?” quipped Jai, excitedly. “That will be fun.”
“Didn’t you hear, what I just said?” Lata asked in an annoyed voice.
“Let them be, Lata dear. They can go with the other children and the young women from the village. It will be a good time for them to experience life in our village,” Savita Kaki said optimistically. “I can make some fresh sangri with garlic, that tastes good too.”
“Kaki, you’ve no idea how naughty they both can be if left to their own devices,” Lata persisted. “They forget all manners and go out of bounds.”
“They’re young still. Plenty of time to educate them in etiquettes,” Savita Kaki said smiling at the two angelic faces.
“Amma, we’re not as naughty as the village children here,” chirped Sneha, licking some pickle off her fingers.
“Have you already got into scrapes with the children around?” Lata asked in consternation.
“Children? Which children?” queried Savita Kaki curiously. “There won’t be any children around at this time of the day. They all go to school till three o’clock.”
“Well, some child must’ve not gone to school, Dadi. It was someone very rude,” Jai said with his mouth full.
“Jai, what did I tell you about eating with your mouth closed,” corrected Lata. “Please, don’t speak with your mouth full.”
“Sorry, Amma.”
“It is April, exams are going on. They can’t take leave,” insisted Savita Kaki.
“Don’t take them seriously, Kaki. These children are funny; they say strange things when they’re in a mood. God knows what they saw or heard!” Lata said closing the lid of the small pickle container.
“No… No… Amma, we’re not making up stories. There was a child hiding, somewhere up in the mango tree. He or she threw raw mangoes and broke our mud castle, twice. And then, whoever the person was, laughed at us. We heard him. Hain na… Jai Bhaiyya!” insisted Sneha.
“Sneha is right, Amma. There was someone…”
“Now… Now… No more stories! The wind must’ve caused the mangoes to fall. Come on. Have you both finished eating? Go, wash your hands and play outside. Let Kaki rest for a while and when I tell you to, send Deenu and Jeetu inside. They must be having their lunch or napping outside,” Lata said, collecting the rustic leaf plates and bowls.
“Ok Amma, but if we find him or her, we’ll bring the child to meet you. Then you have to believe us that we’re not fibbing or making up stories,” Sneha said standing up from the jute chatai.
Jai reasoned bossily like the older sibling he was, “As if he’ll wait for us to get back. He must’ve run off by now, Sneha.”
“Ha… Ha… Ha…” laughed Sneha loudly.
“What are you laughing for?” asked Jai in surprise.
“Jai Bhaiyya, you have moustaches,” Sneha said, still laughing.
“Wipe your mouth, dear. It’s the buttermilk,” Savita Kaki said, smiling broadly. “It’s lovely to have children around again.”
Jai who had been drinking the mint flavoured buttermilk from a kulhad wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and giggled, “Come, let’s go and play. We have to complete the mud castle and decorate it too.”
“Yes! Let’s go, Jai Bhaiyya!”
The children ran out, intent on completing the task they had set for themselves, refreshed after a sumptuous meal.
Jai grinned to himself, making up his mind to interact with Deenu a little more than just delivering the message. He so wanted to know more about his weird stories of ghosts and jinns.