Medium

It was the month of December. The annual examinations of my children had been ended. They pressed me to go for a tour. I didn't refuse them. One day we started to go to the country-side. After crossing the Rupsa Bridge we got in a bus. We reached Fakirhat within an hour. We had to go three miles inteior to reach our native village Hejalpur. We hired a van and started to go there.

Our minds became full of joys to see the sceneries of the country-side after a long piriod. It was the time of harvest. The peasants're harvesting their annual crops the golden paddy. They're carrying it in cart. Their hearts're becoming full of hopes. Smelling the odour of the soil and crops I remembered the memories of my boy-hood. I've been living in town for ten years since I've been appointed in my job but originally I was a boy of this village. I'm a man of this soil. The smell of this soil is mixed with my body and mind. Once I was brought up in this soil. My body has been built up by taking foods from this soil. The substance of this soil is streaming in my veins and arteries.

Our van was runing through the path. There're extended paddy fields in both sides. Ripe paddy spikes're glittering in sun-light. Distantly located Hijalpur village came into my vision. I said to my children and wife, "Look at our native village" They looked curiously. Gradually the village became visible conspicuously. The old banian tree of the village with its hanging roots, the lines of memorable trees like silk-cotton, polash, hijol etc came into our visions. Our minds reached the village early than us.

We reached very near to the village. One of my cousins named Mizanur was working in the field. He saw and came to us. He asked, “Brother, how are you?” I replied, “I'm fine by the grace of Almighty." I asked him, “How are you?" He replied, “I'm also fine. Go to our village. I'll come soon.” My wife requested me to take a bunch of paddy spikes. I expressed the matter to my cousin. He gave us a bunch of ripe paddy spikes.

We entered into the village. It was that very Hijalpur village which was shaded by the trees and resounded by chattering of the birds. Advancing through the serpentine paths of the village we reached our paternal house. My father and mother died long before. My younger brother lives here. I used to come here occasionally. Seeing our arrival my younger brother's family and nighbour rushed to us. Hearty congratulations're exchanged. I felt a cordial love in my heart. I was pointing out everything of the surroundings to my children. Men're threshing corns in the premises with bulls. Cocks and hens're wandering with cackle. Growing gourd plant was in the thatch. The memories of my father, mother and boyhood came into my memory. My eyes became full of tears.

I washed my hands and mouth and took a seat in the porch. The wife of my younger brother entertained us with cake and porridge. I took those with my maximum satisfaction. I was seated in the porch. I saw an old hen was wandering in the premises with its chickens. The chickens're also wandering but when the hen cackled loudly all the chickens rushed under the wings of the hen. The hen was saving its chickens from the attack of kite and falcon. The hen was much alert about its duty to save its chickens. Seeing the scene a different thinking entered into my mind. I thought that like kite and falcon passions're always flying in the sky of our minds. If they get any opportunity they'll swoop to us and lead astray. If we want to save us from the attack of passions we have to submit ourselves under the guidance of spiritual preceptor. Who can save us under his invisible wings. He can guide us in the right path. Those who have not got spiritual preceptor they're ill-fated. They're lucky who have got spiritual father. They have been saved from the swoop of passion.

After having the lunch we took rest and we went out for a walk in the afternoon. We walked through the serpentine paths of the village. Many village people congratulated us. I saw some women're crashing pulses in the millstones. I remembered a wellknown verse of the great saint Kabir Das. He expressed in his verse all pulse-grains're becoming deformed by the crashing of the millstones but those pulse grains which're remained attached with the peg of the stone only exempted from crashing. In this verse he wanted to express the importance of spiritual father. He indicated sky and land by the two millstones and by the peg of the stone he indicated the spiritual father. He wanted to express most of the men within sky and land would  be derailed by the attack of the passion but a few men'ld be exempted who'll connect themselves with the spiritual father.

Advancing through the narrow paths of the village when we reached the paddy field it was dusk. I became absorbed in the induction of the dusk. I felt that I found out a universal truth seeing a hidden scene of the nature. I fixed my vision on the setting sun. The sun sat gradually. Dark began to overwhelme. Peasants returned to their huts. Lamps’re lighted hut to hut. The village became resounded with new-grain festival. We returned home. The night gradually became late through our conversation and supper. We went to our beds.

In the next day we got up early in the morning. A peasant brought date-palm juice. We took that with fried rice in our breakfast. It was very tasteful. My younger brother caught a big fish from the pond by net. We took our lunch with fried fish and chicken. Then the time came for our departure from the village. We started our return-journey for town with teared eyes. We reached the Khulna city before evening. Our as usual urban-lives're restarted.

In the next-day I was seated in my room listlessly. My wife placed the paddy spikes in my room decorously which she brought from the village. I saw again the golden paddy spikes with deep intimacy. I smelled the spikes. I got the odour which was the known fragrance of my native village. I again remembered the memories of my passed village life. I felt that very moment when I realised the necessary of spiritual father in our lives.