A Tale Of Farmers And Their lives
Farah M Saddha ( Activist , Entrepreneur , Author and participant of Women Empowerment principles and United Nations Global Compact )
First Published on New Nation June 2. 2000
It was the summer of 1999 when I came to visit my parents in Bangladesh from USA and we decided to go on a long vacation some where far away from the surrounding .We decided to visit my grand ma’s home which was in a small village , Kachipara , near the famous Kabai River .
To me it was a land of beauty .Its verdant fields swept the horizon and its farms created a green and gold mosaic in the ground . Its rivers meandered the sea after giving life to the land . The people were very poor but loving and friendly . Though they were hard working the natural disasters like flood and drought destroyed their crops making their life miserable . So they had definitely gone through all sorts of imaginable extremities but they never lost their passion to love their life .
Instead of staying home I went to visit different parts of the village . I talked with the farmers, their wives and children .I spent most of my time near the river watching the fishermen fishing or walking under the coconut trees amidst the fragrant wild flowers .
One day ,while I was walking near a small house , my eyes fixed on a house and caught on a small , innocent and lovely face of a little beautiful girl about six years old . I stared at her face .She looked very pale as if she was craving for a little affection . Her unclean and torn clothes reminded me of her family’s indigence which could not efface her charming smile . I looked down at her legs and I was shocked to find that she was missing one leg . I went to her and asked her name . After a few seconds , she said ,’Rivani’.
From that day Rivani became a passionate part of my life . We walked together near the river plucking wild flowers and drinking green coconuts .Her father was a farmer and she had lost her mother a year before .She liked to tell tales of the farmers and their lives .
One of her stories was ,’Naksi kathar Math’ about a beautiful daughter of a poor farmer . Her name was ‘Rupai’. Rupee loved Sonai , son of a rich farmer . Both of their parents were against their love . At the end of their story both of them killed themselves by taking poison .Listening to her stories I often left my US life far behind and became part of their life and culture . In the moon lit night sitting (behind her dark shadow) I forgot everything .
The summer drew to a close and my family was ready to go back home .So the time came to say good bye to my little Rivani .She did not say nothing when she first heard about my leaving . Them she burst into tears and said ,’I will wait for you next summer and I will never forget you , never , but please forget me not .’
I could not say anything but Good-bye , the memory of my loving Rivani was still vivid in my mind . The next summer , when I reached at her home , it looked somehow different . Everything was exceptionally calm .As I was looking for her , her father came to me . I asked him ,’Where is she ?’
‘Rivani Died in fever last month . You will not see her any more .’
I could not believe it at first . I just lost my senses .
I never had the experience of that emptiness which touched my furtive feelings with her warm affection . I disrespect that poverty which makes life vulnerable and stops it before blooming .
