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Soham Mondal

Abstract Children Stories Classics

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Soham Mondal

Abstract Children Stories Classics

The Rains Come To Tajpur

The Rains Come To Tajpur

4 mins
33


The heat of the Summer had taken its toll on the farmers in the little coastal village of Tajpur. Most of the people here were either fishermen who went out to sea on their boats early in the morning and came back laden with fish, hotel workers who were employed at the various resorts in the nearby coastal holiday town of Mandarmani and the rest, including Suborno, were the farming community.


Suborno was fifteen, his family had been farmers since the time of Akbar and they had always grown paddy in the summer and mustard in the winter. Due to the excessive summer heat, their produce was half of the previous year's—barely sufficient for the consumption of their family of seven. Seriously considering this, his father joined a resort in Mandarmani as part of their cleaning staff. His mother on the other hand started making cheap jewellery along with other women of the village, out of dried leaves, shells and bits and pieces of boulders painted beautifully. That left the fields in the care of Suborno. It was not that he was incapable of managing what little land they owned but he was depressed due to the fact that the heat was so oppressive. He believed in being educated and becoming a successful person in life, perhaps even being the manager of the same hotel where his father worked. 'But that will remain a dream for me...', he reflected often as their family did not have the resources to send him to school. So, he began to toil in the fields—not in the heat of the daytime of course as that would be dangerous, but at night in the light of a makeshift lamp that burnt on whatever old rubbish he could find. Sometimes, his father and mother would assist him provided that their own jobs were done in advance. In this manner, they somehow managed to sustain their large family even though their crop yield was insufficient. 

One eventful Friday night as he was working under the full moon's light, he heard some rumbling in the distance. 'Some rich drunken fellow riding a bike as though he owned the road, it seems,' he said the himself. There were several successive rumbles right afterwards at the end of which he became very annoyed and we

nt to the edge of his field where the ground was slightly higher and looked towards the road nearby, which was on the northern side. There was not a single vehicle in sight. Just afterwards, he heard another rumble, which he thought was coming from the south and turned around. As he did so, a cool wind picked up, providing respite to his continuous perspiration. He saw the southern sky over the Bay of Bengal lit up as though a thousand burning torches were lit up together. He exclaimed with joy as he understood what was happening and began to run almost at the speed of the wind, towards the sea beach shouting at the top of his voice and startling every person and animal in the village. 'Brishti ayche, Brishti ayche!', (The rains are here, the rains are here!) he shouted with joy. As soon as he went through a small wood of dancing palm and tamarisk trees and descended onto the sandy beach, the first drops of rain greeted him. It was a wonderful experience for him—it was as if each and every worry was washed away from his soul—be it the financial condition of the family, his inability to go to school or the pain and misery felt as a result of the relentless heat. The drizzle turned into a very heavy rainfall he got totally drenched in it, which he enjoyed. After playing about in the rain for what seemed like an eternity, he finally went back home.


The trees, the shrubs and the crops came back to life by sunrise for it had rained cats and dogs for about six hours. The overjoyed family found that their crops were reviving and planted a different form of rice seed in the place of those crops that had perished which would definitely give them good yields. Suborno's father declared that he would leave his job as a cleaner. 'Better to toil in the fields than to die cleaning after the rich people leave!', he said. He called Suborno, patted his head and told him that if all was well, he could go to school and be educated. Nothing in the world would have made him happier than this! He thanked all the Gods he could think of for sending them blessings in the form of rain and prayed that a terrible heatwave situation would not befall him again. 


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