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After many years, I got an opportunity to visit Katla village. It must have been almost forty years. My aunt's daughter Bhajni lives in this village. When did aunt become dear to God? While living in the city, he never got caught up in his responsibilities, job and busyness. After meeting his daughter, he suddenly felt the desire to see his village. Anyway, it was heart-touching to go out of the hustle and bustle of city life and go somewhere in the open air, in a peaceful environment. She went there and got her sister ready as she had been there once or twice. In the morning, I boarded a bus from the Adda. The bus reached Ramdas in about two hours from Amritsar. When I got off the bus, I thought that it would be close here, I would take a rickshaw, but neither rickshaw nor auto was seen there. A shopkeeper said that he would definitely take it from the square. Coming to the crossroad, they stood there for about fifteen minutes. Finally a rickshaw came but it did not go. A boxer nearby said, “Oh, take the women, what are you waiting for?” Finally he agreed for seventy rupees.
We reached the village in half an hour. For us it was like getting off the plane. Anyway, their house was right up the road. Paid the rickshaw puller and entered the room through a long courtyard with a big door. Later Bhajni sister welcomed us with a warm hug. Again and again both her daughters-in-law, their children would come and meet us with equal enthusiasm. She said make lassi sharbat, so her daughter-in-law brought two glasses of lemonade. One daughter-in-law herself felt hungry for roti. We kept asking each other about their well-being. Sister herself was stepping into old age. She was a tall, thin, wheatish complexioned personality. Bhajni told that after the wheat harvesting here, the electricity has to be kept off for as long as possible so that the wheat does not catch fire due to a short circuit. She kept beating us with a handmade fan.' When the wheat ripens, the landlords are always worried that natural calamities like rain, storm, hailstorm may occur and the crop may catch fire. He prays that the wheat crop is prosperous. After a while, his granddaughter brought a plate of potato-batoon curry, curd and paratha. He was also hungry and ate it with great relish. After resting for a while and drinking tea, in the evening Bhajni took us to show her fields, bamboos etc. She walked for about half a kilometer, “Oh, our bamboo is there, but it is dry now because there is no electricity.” Oh, our fields are far and wide. There are two rooms here, sometimes the boys go here to rest. Plates, glasses, big plates were seen lying in the second room. I also saw a stove built on one side. I asked, “Do you cook roti here too?” He said, “No, we organize langar here on the last Sunday of every month. All the workers come to organize langar nearby. In that vessel, he sometimes cooks sweet and sometimes salty rice or curry.” Now come here, I will show you my garden. On one side there are vegetables and many kinds of trees – banana, litchi, banana, guava, lemon and litchi. Three trees were mango trees. He had mangoes left. I asked him, “So do you sell them then?”
He said some are sold, most are distributed here and there. Well now come here, ah Kamad is a vine. There are furnaces. Jaggery is made here when sugarcane comes in winter. Now we will sow rice and sugarcane after wheat.' Oh, this is a pillar of life beyond. It is still filled with old ashes. And we were astonished to see and hear as if we were sitting in a debate.
“It's amazing that everything you do is done at home. We have to value everything, sometimes even mixed things. Here you are eating fresh purees prepared by hand. Everything is so tasty and healthy.”
“Yes, it is good, but it takes a lot of hard work. Ah, collect all those dry leaves lying around and make compost.
Bhajni Bhaina said, “Who are we? He is the great donor who gave us this earth, water, the warmth of the sun. We only take from the original donor and then distribute.”
We were coming back looking at these fields and trees. According to the famous Punjabi poet Mohan Singh, God resides in villages. We were also coming to meet him. There is land, there is water, but there is also human labour. Which works hard in the sun. But with a disappointed look on her face, sister Bhajni said, “Farming is no longer a hobby. The son used to do it, but the future grandson is not happy with this work on the soil. Leaving this work, they are now thinking of working in the cities and going abroad. Most of the boys of this village have sold their land and gone out. The elder grandson who is doing BA says, I want to work in the railways or join the army. At the same time, Nikka, who has joined Plus Two, is also focused on his work.
I told Bhajni, “No sister, actually children are more interested in outdoor activities like the sound of a distant drum.” By staying close to nature they can also progress in farming. By doing a diploma course in agriculture they can also gain fame in it.” Major Manmohan Singh Verka is an ideal farmer in Amritsar. He has been honored by the President twice for his garden and farms. So there is a lot of knowledge, money and respect in it. What more do you need? I like the atmosphere of villages very much.
Talking like this he came home. It was dark. Bhajni's daughter-in-law made dahi pakoras and daal with sweet coloured rice. All the food was prepared on the stove in the light of torches and we ate with great relish. All the agricultural equipment like tractor, motorcycle, trolley, electric plugs, big room of hay, generator etc. were kept in the house itself. There were three cows which used to bite themselves from small to big members. I was surprised to see the beds. These beds were not woven with any rope, thread, plastic or nawar, rather they were woven by joining and tying together long pieces of cloth or other old clothes. Spreading sheets on these beds, we slept comfortably under the starry sky. After a while, the beautiful full moon was also visible. Mosquitoes were definitely buzzing but we slept with our faces covered. At four in the morning, the sound of Japuji Sahib and other mantras was coming from the Gurudwara. We were listened to and then stood up. Then we bathed and got ready. After a while, we had breakfast with curd-paranthas and potato curry. Later tea leaves were mixed in cow milk. It was very tasty. Bhajni's sister started leaving and gave homemade rice to both of them. Farewell to everyone with loving hugs. His elder grandson took us on his motorcycle to the bus station. Thus this trip became very memorable for us.