Nothing Common about a Potato..

My earliest memory of  growing up is of  the time when the only technology that I could see in my house was a ceiling fan, a table fan, few electric bulbs, tube lights, a radio and heater in the kitchen. Those were the days when the effect of things natural and nature itself was far reaching and significant.

I distinctly remember the time when my father had a change of job and designation  and we shifted from small row quarters to a fairly large bungalow located in the middle of  large open patch of land that had two mango trees , a huge neem tree and few guava trees. There was enough land for making a beautiful lawn and even cultivate some paddy and also grow a number of seasonal vegetables and herbs.

Shifting in that house was a life changing experience for me. Two ladies of the house, my mother, and my own self, found a playing ground and a dream land that they wanted to make full use of. While my mother got busy playing the lady of the house and got down to dealing with daily workers that used to come to work at our house, I grew up wings of fantasy and that house was a wonderland. In all of my five years or so, I had never lived in a place so beautiful and I felt like a princess. The feeling that I can run around unhindered, abundantly, and extravagantly in an open ground, under the blue sky that I can call my own, was such a stimulant and wave maker. At that time, I thought that was it. That was life. That is what I am supposed to have in my lifetime. This is how I am going to live always. Amidst these trees, birds, flowers, and fresh green vegetables. Who would want anything more from life I used to think?

It was my first close encounter with mother earth. Nobody in my house knew but I used to talk to every new flower that grew from a bud, every that patch of grass that was born out of the ground, I would chase every butterfly that I could lay my eyes on and admired every new vegetable that found its life out from  beautiful flowers on the plants. I would stand under the mango tree and look proudly at all those mangoes that I could have, whenever I wanted. When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.

I remember as little girl of five or six , when I was beginning to understand things and form my own likes and dislikes, I began to have special fondness for mother Earth and the very first spark of recognition came when I saw the potato crop, my most favourite vegetable at that time, being  harvested for the first time. I still remember how curious I was for the event and when it happened, I was so excited.

The men were digging the earth and the soil was blackish brown and semi moist, underneath that green lush plant clinging to its roots were bunch of potatoes! At that time I did not know that potatoes are root vegetables or things like that, I only remember, round healthy potatoes of different sizes , to me they were looking like pearls hanging upside down in a bouquet , a gift from the mother earth, I immediately fell down on my knees in the soil and started digging with both my hands searching for more and more potatoes in the soil. That was the first time in my life when I played in dirt to my heart’s content. I wanted to collect as many potatoes as I can from the soil, and I made a pile separately of all the potato bounty that I could manage to lay my hands on. I demanded that for dinner I wanted my favourite “aloo chokha” made from the potatoes I had collected.

I felt like a real winner that day. Does this earth give things like the way it is gave me potatoes? A plenty? What all can I get from in here? May be if I bury my bon bons one day, I will get hundreds of them! My imagination was running wild, and my admiration for mother earth was germinating, swelling.