When I was young, summer holidays were something different in those days. Then I started asking my parents to go to the village a month in advance. Once in a while, mother would get irritated due to my repeated asking and would scold me in the same irritation, but then father would lovingly take her in her lap and tell me that next week we will all go to our village, daughter. I would have been happy to hear this.
Then she would sit for hours thinking about what and what mischief I have to do in the village this time. The day I reached the village, I would start flirting with her and all the elders in the house would say that all her habits resemble those of boys, it does not seem that she is a girl. After all, I was the only girl in the family and the rest were boys.
In those days, during summer holidays, I liked playing Gilli-Danda the most. In order to be able to play gilli-danda for a longer period, I would not hesitate to commit dishonest acts. But mom did not like my playing gilli-danda at all. She often got upset because of my playing gilli-danda, because she knew that my grandparents would take my side.
But one day my scarf hit the eye of the neighbor aunty who was coming from the front and she screamed, “Alas! You have killed me, my eye has burst!”
Because of the noise made by the aunt, the people from the neighborhood as well as her own family members came out. And I was trembling with fear. I couldn’t understand how this happened so suddenly. Blood was leaking from aunty’s eyes. The eye was swollen and covered as if there was no eye there before. Then it seemed as if mom got a chance. He scolded me so much that I was shocked.
I did not leave the house for four-five days. One day aunty herself came home and lovingly placed her hand on my shoulder and said, “Daughter, it is not your fault.” As soon as he said this, tears welled up in my eyes. When I looked at his eyes, his eyes were already fine, but there was still some swelling in it. He put the gilli in my hands and said, “You play a lot with gilli-danda, but on the field, so that no one gets hurt.” As soon as he left, it seemed as if I had feathers on my feet and I immediately reached the field with my stick. Just as I was about to hit the gilli with the stick, my daughter Simmi called out – “Mummy, give me something to eat, I am very hungry.” And I returned to my present without hitting the gilli with the stick. -Ranganath Dwivedi, writer
