Time has a way of washing away the footprints of the past. Today, as we sit glued to our smartphone screens, a half-century-old memory gently knocks on the doors of my mind. This is a story from 1970s rural Haryana—specifically from my ancestral village, Kharkari Makhwan in the Bhiwani district—and a testament to a shared cultural fabric that seems almost mythical today.
In
1947, as borders were drawn in blood, my ancestors in Kharkari Makhwan
(Bhiwani, Haryana) stood as a shield for their Muslim neighbors—including a
local cotton-carder named Sodagr and his brother-in-law, a lonely Mirasi folk
singer. Decades later, I look back at the beautiful, harmonious village life
that their courage preserved.
I will explane the whole story in upcoming blogpost.
This video of moong cultivation instantly took me down memory lane!
It brought back fond memories of visiting our family farm, where we worked together from dawn to dusk. I still remember the days of 'Ninaan' (weeding the fields), and 'Laavni' (harvesting the crop) early in the morning when the pods were dry and brittle.
The best part was at the 'Khalihan' (threshing floor), waiting for the perfect wind to winnow the harvest, watching the chaff blow away, and seeing the heap of clean, green moong grains grow. More than just hard work, it was a time of family bonding, laughter, and staying rooted to the soil. Pure nostalgia!
XO
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