Ah, the joys of a wild and intrepid childhood! My love for nature and adventure was practically ingrained in my DNA from those early years spent frolicking in the untamed landscapes of Bengal.
There I was, a little girl, all of 4 years, innocently running around in the gardens of our bungalow in Coochbehar, when I encountered a tree so magnificent, I just had to give it a hug. Little did I know, it was inhabited by some rather peculiar critters—hairy, spiky insects that embedded themselves in my tender palms. As you can imagine I dashed to my parents, wailing and crying in pain.
Thankfully, the wise locals came to my rescue, armed with an unconventional remedy: cow manure. Yes, you heard that right. They slathered my hands with what can only be described as nature’s own moisturizer, and lo and behold, the burning sensation subsided. Call it bizarre, call it bovine brilliance—whatever it was, it worked like a charm. And so, with cow dung-coated hands and a newfound appreciation for the oddities of rural life, I emerged unscathed from yet another childhood escapade!
In the hazy nostalgia of childhood memories, one adventure stands out vividly—a trip to Samsing, a remote mountainous enclave, near Jalpaiguri, when I was just a sprightly seven-year-old. The circuit house was on the ledge of a mountain. Around 3 o’clock in the afternoon, my father called me outside and said let’s trek down this hill to the stream which we could just about see from above. To this day, I’m trying to figure out what got into him – he was about as adventurous as a Sunday afternoon nap.
As we trekked down the rugged terrain, the pleasant sound of a babbling stream beckoned us, its crystalline waters shimmering in the sunlight like scattered diamonds. Naturally, we couldn’t resist the urge to put our feet in and play.
Soon we noticed that the sun had dipped, and dusk was upon us. It was time to go back. I saw my father, he had a furrow of concern on his brow, his usual aura of confidence momentarily eclipsed by a shadow of uncertainty. In that fleeting moment, as his gaze swept over our surroundings, I felt a surge of empathy welling up within me—a sense that, despite my tender age, I had a duty to reassure and protect.
Summoning all the bravado a seven-year-old can muster, I turned to my father with a declaration that would set the tone for who I was on my way to becoming: “Papa, we’re not lost. We just need to go up. Let’s start climbing.” Although he still looked uncertain, to show solidarity, and perhaps reaffirm to himself that he was not to show any fear to a child, he nodded and we embarked on our ascent with determination. Along the way, we encountered a makeshift shop and the shopkeeper pointed to the direction of the path that led back to the circuit house. In the words of John Mayer “Fathers, be good to your daughters. You are the god and the weight of her world.”
It was 6 o’clock in the evening by the time we made it back, and it was almost dark. I was running around outside when my mother’s frantic yelling shattered the tranquil evening air. She was calling me inside. I rushed in and both my parents started checking my hands and legs. Lo and behold, I was met with the sight of a leech firmly attached to my leg.
My mother was still muttering about why we went on this wild adventure, parallel to her efforts to get rid of the leech. I recall them putting salt on it to detach it from me. It was quite late by the time we got back to Jalpaiguri. However, resources as they were back then, the doctor was summoned to provide medical care. Now, this poor chap, armed with what looked like a medieval torture device (okay, maybe just a pair of tweezers), had the audacity to make a move toward my wound. I screamed. My mother, already on edge, promptly lost her cool and gave him a piece of her mind. I swear, even the leech would have thought twice before attaching itself to me, had it had the pleasure of meeting my formidable mother.
I have a faint recollection of an escapade in Bareilly where a monkey mistook my hand for a banana, but let’s save that another day!
