Ankita looked out of the window as the car sped through the rice fields. As her doctor parents were spending the next four weeks in the U.S. for training, they were dropping her at her grandparents' house in the village. She had Googled Kodi village and found it was a tiny hamlet with a population of less than a thousand people. After retirement, her grandfather had bought some land here and built a house.
The car stopped outside a small white house. Her grandparents stood at the gate, beside their goat, Gogi and dog, Roli.
The driver lugged her suitcases into the house. Her grandmother had laid out tea — chappati rolls stuffed with home-made guava jam, square biscuits and aamras (mango pulp).
“It’s made from fresh cow’s milk, dear,” grandmother said, as she offered her a glass of milky tea.
After tea, her parents left. Ankita sat in the veranda, on a jute mattress, watching the sun fade from the sky. Gogi butted Ankita’s knee. She tried to call her friend from her cell. The signal was weak. Roli trotted towards her, carrying a stick in his mouth. She played fetch with him, throwing the stick and watching the excited dog bring it back to her. She wondered how she would pass her time without television.
“Dinner is ready,” Grandma called her.
The small table was groaning with food. The pulao was made from the vegetables her grandfather grew in the backyard. Ankita heaped thick curd on her rice. The jaggery chikki was delicious.
“The healthy air will make you rosy,” grandpa said. “You are too pale and thin, Anki.”
“I’ll get bored here,” Ankita said.
“You won’t,” grandpa replied. “You can help me with gardening, run errands for me and read books. I’ve bought a cycle for you,” he smiled.
Ankita sat up straight. She was never allowed to cycle in the city.
“You will get your cycle tomorrow,” grandpa said.
“We all sleep early,” grandma said.
Ankita sat in bed reading a book she had brought with her. Thankfully, her grandparents had a solar generator supplying them with continuous electricity, unlike the rest of the village.
The next morning, a bird call awoke Ankita instead of her usual alarm. After a quick bath, she joined her grandparents for breakfast, her eyes searching the table for her usual toast and scrambled egg.
Grandma placed a plate loaded with piping hot pongal beside her.
She dug her spoon into the mound of yellow rice. It was delicious.
“You like it?” grandma asked.
“It’s yummy. Can I have some more, please,” she said.
Grandma looked delighted as she ladled more rice on her plate. Later, Ankita sipped the sweet, cardamom-flavoured tea.
“Your cycle is outside,” grandpa said. “It’s your first day today, please don’t cycle too far.”
“Here,” grandma handed her a small backpack. “I’ve packed fruits, a snack, a bottle of water and a napkin. You can sit under a tree and have a picnic.”
Fun in the fields
Hoisting her backpack onto her back, Ankita climbed onto her cycle and started riding. Roli ran beside her. Her grandfather’s field was huge, stretching for miles. Soon, she started sweating.
Leaning her cycle against the peepal tree, she sat down.
“Hey there,” a soft voice called out.
Ankita looked around. There was no one in the field.
“It’s me,” said the scarecrow hanging on a stick, in the centre of the field. Jumping down, he walked towards her.
“I’m Pepe,” he smiled. Pepe’s pumpkin face was wrinkled; he had two black buttons for eyes and a long carrot nose. His blue shirt was two sizes big and the purple pant, two sizes small.
Ankita stared at Pepe’s torn red socks, they smelled bad. His arms made of two bamboo sticks had straw stuck to them, as did his legs. On his head was a green hat.
“Cat got your tongue?” Pepe asked.
“Who dressed you up?” Ankita asked.
“Your grandma, Ankita.”
“You know my name?”
“The entire village knows about you,” Pepe smiled. “Have you ever climbed a tree?” he asked.
Ankita shook her head.
“I’ll teach you,” Pepe said.
Under his guidance, Ankita climbed the tree. Plucking three mangoes, she threw them down. Then she jumped down from the tree.
Pepe told her stories, making her laugh hard.
“What do you do the whole day?” she asked, wiping her eyes.
“I look after your grandfather’s field,” he said. “Prevent the birds from eating the grain.”
“When can I see you again?” Ankita asked.
“Whenever you want,” he waved to her. “We are friends, aren’t we?”
Ankita climbed her cycle, to leave. However, she looked forward to meeting her new friend every day.
