Tinku, a cute & young boy with twinkling eyes

Affection, Love and Indulgence

For six-year-old [Tinku] a child or young boy, his world revolves around his Nanny, his maternal grandmother, a figure of unparalleled love and indulgence. 

In his young eyes, she is the embodiment of kindness, a constant "yes" to his every whim. As a young boy he loves to eat sweets and 'Ladoo' (a sweet made of gram flour) being the favourite sweet, melts in mouth and one of the sweet that satisfy his taste buds, well being young there is no question of being conscious about not eating sweets, and his desire for it knows no bounds. A denied request unleashes a torrent of tears, instantly soothed only by Nanny's presence and the coveted treat. Their bond is a deep, reciprocal comfort; her absence brings immediate distress. While household duties pull Nanny away during the day, their evenings are filled with magic. 

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Starlit Sky, Desert, Temples- the treasure moments:

Under the starlit sky, stories unfold, and the playful family tradition of trying to count the impossible number of twinkling stars creates lasting memories. [Tinku]'s energy is infectious. He imagines flight in every step, a tiny figure racing across the desert, playfully battling the resistance of the sand. The farmland becomes his playground, where he whispers greetings to the birds.

The numerous temples of Hanuman offer lessons in reverence, observed and absorbed. He finds companionship in the rustling leaves and the buzzing insects. An irrigation pond, shared with the local cattle, becomes an irresistible invitation. Under the watchful eye of his swimming-savvy Mama, joyful splashes and playful tussles ensue. The vibrant landscape yields its treasures: sweet watermelons, crisp cucumbers, sharp radishes, and fragrant lemons, enjoyed with simple, hearty meals of roti, spicy curry, and cooling yogurt...

18 May 2025

Jumping into the ponds:

Each jump into the ponds and the playful fight with Mama is a joy that words can hardly capture. However, my Mama wanted to ensure I learned a bit of swimming, encouraging me to take a dip by gently pressing my nose and then releasing it as soon as I came out of the water. There were always more relatives welcoming the young boy, offering buttermilk and making sure he was having the best time. We could see camels around on the sandy road, but they weren't allowed to enter the farmland. The young boy could see more of their long necks and heads with faces. Also, Mama taught me how to climb the tree. The young boy struggled to climb, but Mama hardly took a minute. The young boy wanted to learn the tricks and made efforts to climb the tree and sit on the main branch, inspired by seeing Mama sitting coolly on the branch of a tree with a sugarcane...

21 May 2025

Learnings, Fear about animals:

I(a young boy) learn many things from Mama, and I believe he is a protective force in my life. If I am ever in danger, he will come and save me. The biggest fears in my village are oxen and camels. Sometimes, I've heard people say they've seen cheetahs in the farmland, but God has never given me the chance to see one, for which I am thankful.

A Companion

My grandfather(my mom's father), my elder Mama(uncle), and my companion Mama, well I wanted to clear that my companion mama is just 2 year older than me, they all go to cut trees and gather enough grass for the cows tied up at home. Cows are everyone's favorite animals because they provide us with milk. Our entire family depended on two cows, and everyone loved them. We always took care of them, especially during strong winds or heavy rain. A family member would run to where the cows were tied in the open and move them under the shed. They needed to be fed morning and evening, primarily with grass mixed and sometimes with jaggery, especially during winter.

However, I only go to the farmland to enjoy myself, and no one stops me. I play around, eat all the available fruits, and drink buttermilk.

23 May 2025

Little things excites me:

My Mausi (my mother's sister) is another significant character in my life. She always excites me about the little things. She would bathe me even when I wasn't ready, especially during winter. She often took me to a neighbor's rooftop, primarily to chat with her friends, and I would accompany her.

She was the one who brought me news of new happenings in our village. One day, she told me about an upcoming "mela" (fair), and I became incredibly curious. I started asking countless questions: "What happens at a mela? Will I get this? Will I get that?" She would simply stop me and say, "You will get everything you want!"

The Mela: 

The mela was a three to four-day event where people from nearby villages gathered to enjoy themselves. Some came to showcase their talents, others presented games involving the public to earn money, while many simply sold toys, sarees, kurtas, makeup items, bangles, earrings, and many other similar goods. I was particularly interested in buying toys like flutes, balloons, roller "phirkies" (pinwheels), and a mouth organ.

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My mouth organ

I chose a mouth organ and tried to play it, but my Mama (mother's brother) would often grab it from me and play it better. I was a bit unhappy about this, wanting to play music "realistically" without realizing that it required learning to be proficient.

Before the mela began, my close family members were worried about me wandering off alone. They repeatedly told me that I must hold either Mausi's or Mama's hand while at the mela, otherwise "Baba" (a term for a scary figure or boogeyman, often used to instill fear) would take me. They were trying to frighten me into obedience, suggesting that if I didn't hold hands, someone would kidnap me. Indeed, such incidents—pickpocketing, chain snatching, and child kidnapping—were known to occur at melas.

However, our excitement overruled such fears. I wasn't thinking about holding hands when I saw countless toys for children. Imagine a young child's first visit to a mela, seeing an entire street filled with toys. The sheer happiness is palpable in their eyes! Yet, in the end, despite wanting to accumulate many things, the child would hardly manage to get a few.

Events:

During the mela, various talents were showcased. One memorable act featured a lady who tied ropes in the air between two tall sticks. She balanced a large pot on her head and walked across the thin rope from one end to the other. People held their breath while watching her perform. After her act, people would donate money as they wished, and she would collect a good sum. Other performers included a biker hero who performed stunts, a strong man pulling a truck with his mouth and teeth, and a "tubelight man" who broke fluorescent tubes with his body without sustaining any visible wounds. There was also a woman performing a "Ghoomar" dance, beautifully dressed in Rajasthani costumes with large bangles and a "ghagraa" (long beautiful and colorful skirt).

24 May 2025

As a young boy, I always thought I would remain just as I was. However, my Nanny consistently told me that I would attend school and need to study diligently. Though I went to school, and as it happened, the principal was my grandfather, my mother's father. As his favorite grandchild, I enjoyed many advantages. There was no need to study, and absolutely no pressure was put on me.My Nanny also said I would visit my village and meet my Dada Ji and dadi, my paternal grandfather and grandmother. I always insisted on staying in the village of my Nanny, but my Mausi (maternal aunt) and Mamaji (maternal uncle) would playfully tease me, saying I'd have to leave for my studies eventually.

Even then, a thought frequently crossed my mind: Why can't we stay with the people we truly love? Here, "love" doesn't refer to a romantic relationship, but to other significant bonds. When someone is genuinely kind, non-judgmental, and never complains about you, it clearly demonstrates their affection and kind-heartedness.

As a youth, I yearned to hold onto those wonderful moments. However, I eventually understood that time waits for no one. We are constantly changing, every fraction of a second, and change is an inherent part of nature. 

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The Bollywood Effect on Me:

In an era before widespread mobile phones, towers, and OTT platforms, my village offered a singular cinematic escape: Bollywood movies on a medium-sized color TV. My uncle, a local entrepreneur, even ran a video mini-theater for the villagers. The films of Amitabh Bachchan, Rajinikanth, Dharmendra, and Rajesh Khanna were particularly adored, though everyone had their favorite actresses too.

As a privileged young boy, I often got to visit this mini-theater. It wasn't a sophisticated setup; just wooden benches for seating, a few fans — some whirring fast, others sluggish — and the occasional power cut during climax scenes. During these outages, the audience would patiently wait for the electricity to be restored, eager to see how the story unfolded. After a particularly good film, you'd hear people singing the movie's songs, and some young men would even aspire to build a physique like Sunny Deol or Dharmendra.

As a young boy, certain scenes became etched in my memory. Most of the audience, including myself, believed what they saw on screen was real, especially the romantic scenes. My curiosity about Bollywood was insatiable, and I'd pepper my uncle (Mama), who always accompanied me to new movie releases, with questions. One day, I asked him, "If Amitabh and Rajinikanth fight, who will win?" I fully expected him to say Amitabh, but to my surprise, he declared, "Rajini will win!" When I pressed him for an explanation, he revealed, "Rajinikanth has shoes with a needle in them, so he'll win any fight." Being young and trusting of my elder, I took his answer as gospel truth.

It was only many years later that I understood the illusion of cinema – that movies are carefully constructed, and actors are simply playing roles for which they are paid.

Travelling between the Villages:

Tinku, a young boy, frequently traveled between his nanny's village and his father's village. The time came for a tearful farewell to his nanny. Her emotions were immense, but as everyone knows, a child must study to become an educated person. Tinku, unaware of the worldly necessities, wished to stay but was forcefully sent to his father's village.

His father, the family's breadwinner, lived in the city, not the village. It was his grandfather, Dada, who resided in the village. Dada was usually very calm, though he could get angry if things didn't go his way. However, he was very friendly with Tinku. Every night, he would tell stories, laughing when the young boy questioned, "Why does it happen like this or that?" The grandfather also played the role of a responsible advisor, teaching the child not to kill any animals, not even ants, intentionally. He shared historical tales of bravery and sometimes amusing anecdotes.

Dada was punctual in his temple visits and daily pooja rituals. He liked to eat his meals on time and in a presentable manner. He would collect money and donate it for cows and other birds like pigeons and peacocks. He was consistent in his daily prayers, rain or shine, unless there was exceptionally heavy rain or windy weather. He spent his afternoons talking with friends and playing cards, not for money, but for enjoyment and to pass the time. He had worked as an accountant for 40 to 45 years before deciding one day to retire to the village permanently and never returned to the city.

Holi, The Festival of Colors 21 Jan 2026

I heard the sound of the chang—it was Holi. The day of Holi Mangalam was the day my dada took me to the desert. I could see a large crowd gathering, with people singing Holi songs. I was holding my dada’s forefinger tightly, feeling completely safe, as if his presence protected me from all evils and dangers.

The sound of the chang was so beautiful that it made me feel like dancing, and as a child, I didn’t miss that chance. I enjoyed playing in the sand and the desert, the weather not too hot, cherishing every moment. People were shouting “Holi hai!” with joy. Finally, at sunset, the Holi Dahan began. People prayed and carried sticks as part of the ritual.

The very next day, the Holi of colors started. I saw my dada and many others of his age visiting each other’s homes, applying tilak on the forehead and colors on chin as part of kind gestures and love and respect, and exchanging sweets. Behind this celebration lies an interesting story of good and evil, which I will share later.

 to be continued.