Imagine you visited your native village in vacation and write a diary entry you were amazed at the serne atmosphere of the village
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Answer:
hope you like this
Explanation:
Today I was just flipping through the pages of my diary when I came across this entry... and believe me, it instantly became "My favorite diary entry" !
16th June 2012, 12:45 A.M.
Dear Diary,
So here is me again to fill you in with the details of the day !! Guess what... I went to my village today, the place where my ancestors had lived, breathed, moved, sat.... ! And there I stood in the farms, looking at the destroyed boundaries, trees and the piece of earth that used to be, a farmhouse. I've never seen any of it, they say it had been destroyed years ago, due to heavy rains that year. My grandma spoke of it with such vigour and enthusiasm, as if she was back in time, actually living all of it. I could see the sudden twinkle in those experienced and pallid eyes. As she spoke, I could imagine what it would've been like. The gardens, the artificial waterfall, the peacocks, hens, cocks, goats, dogs, cats, cows, buffaloes, rabbits, and last but not the least, the snakes. I was kinda shocked at the last one but she told me that they'd never been hurt by any of them. And there had been the farm house. She showed me the place she used to call her kitchen, the remains of the choolah that used to be there, and how she used to make ommelettes almost every evening. Of the abundance of milk and ghee because of the number of cows and buffaloes that we had(and i could notice the pride in the eyes and the tone !), of the huge well at the back of the farmhouse which presently is just a big hole in the earth. Of berries, of mangoes, of guavas, of mulberries, of the variety of vegetables she had in that big big garden that used to be called the "bagiya", the time she used to be the principle magnate of the family. She looked happy, content :).. It was dark now, she told me that we were supposed to leave, head for the house that we later on had built in the residential area of the village. I told her to leave with my brother, and that I would follow shortly.
I had to stay back, to be with my ancestors for a while, to pay homage to the people who are the reason of my existence, to feel with better concentration and completeness the intimacy and familiarity I'd been sensing ever since the visit started. There was something about the place that I seemed to know(this is nothing creepy!). The place seemed to be weirdly and vaguely familiar, something about the place was very strongly mine and made me feel comforted in those ruins. I pictured my grandma's words again. I seemed to know what it had been like. Something about the place made me want to stay there, sleep in the destroyed farm, facing the sky, till the morning(It would be complete injustice if I do not mention that I've still not been able to express the feeling of the intimacy I felt there, the moments of that "never felt" familiarity. Although I've tried my utmost to do so.). The smell of the place, aaaahhh ! It seemed familiar again ! I closed my eyes for a while and stood inhaling it. Carefree, silent, peaceful, content. There was something that was not letting me open my eyes and leave. Reluctantly I did, and found that it was totally dark now and my brother had already come to fetch me. I had to leave. I turned around to say goodbye to them, not knowing when I would return. And then took a fast pace, partially to hide the tears in my eyes from my brother and partially because I felt unsure of how long I would be able to fight back the urge of sleeping in the farm.
There is nothing more to say except that I sincerely thank the existence of this ritual(rakkas pooja) that had to be performed with me, and was the reason I went to my village.
With this I would like to say that this was all about the day. Good night. :)