My Magical Childhood Days

Those were the days of immersing oneself in the charming world of fairy tales, where wishes took flight over silvery clouds, wearing slippers woven from the wind, while galloping in the wind like wild horses.
Those were the enchanting days of my childhood, 
when the mysterious thoughts would often arise—of lighting one's feet in flames,
deep within the wilderness of demonic spirits, while tying one's tresses inside an enigmatic box. My childhood days were wrapped within the loving circle of my parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunties. Those beautiful days of my early years were surrounded by the protective shield of a joint family structure.
Those early days were filled with fanciful moments- hours spent chasing butterflies, dragonflies, flying kites and playing endlessly with toys. 

My childhood days were cherished, often watching the great flight of Brahminy Kites soaring over my village. Our village was a haven for many birds of the same kind then. 
 
Now those moments appear like illusions. My heart was once filled with resplendent joy, especially after offering flower garlands to Goddess Saraswati on Saraswati Puja and savouring simple delicacies of Rice, Dalma and Pickle. Now everything feels like a fairytale. Now my life is so colourless. My early years in school were shadowed with fear. A school life marked by terrifying moments. I could hardly remember the maiden days of my school. The school building was erected with a thatched roof and clay flooring. We sat on simple mats. I was afraid of all subjects except getting comfortable in Odia classes.

  I was not at all comfortable being confined within the four walls of my school. Sometimes, colourful butterflies wandered into our classroom. A beautiful garden stood outside our class, graciously filled with radiant blooms. Many Jasmine trees adorned the garden, many a time spreading heavenly fragrance inside our room.

Each class had its own garden. Our garden was rich with the jasmine flower. In the season of marigolds, our gardens would become ten times more glorious. We had three teaching staff members only.

The colourful memories of my school days, are still carved within my heart. The golden memories of plum trees, all the blooming flower plants are woven into my life - still now they are remaining alive inside me.

Sarthak Sir and Khagendra Sir taught us English and Mathematics. Sarthak Sir who was my uncle, had taken the whole responsibility of my study. Every evening, he came to our house to teach me and my sister Saraswati. The moment he stepped into our house, I would either feel a fever rush or a stomach ache. I requested my elder aunty and Khira aunt to rescue me from his tuition. They also kindly requested the teacher not to stretch the teaching session so long. Surprisingly, my younger sister was very eager to continue the lesson.               
Her favourite subject was Mathematics. She was very keen to improve in Mathematics. I was overwhelmed by anxiety and fear in my math classes. I couldn't understand anything, and I didn't even try to get the subject. Sometimes, I failed in Math. But I scored the highest numbers in all other subjects.

My Mama (elder aunt) was the most treasured woman in our household. Everyone needed her for the presence of mind she had possessed. Saraswati and I were the youngest in our family. That’s why everyone adored me deeply — I was the apple of their eyes. I was born on a wintry morning in the coastal village of Jagai,  in the northern part of Baleswar.
 That day marked the beginning of festivities like Prathamastami that fell  on the most sacred month of Margasir and the aroma of the most desirous delicacy , steamed rice cake wrapped in turmeric leaves filled the magic in air while intensfing the joyous aura of our house. My grandfather selected my name.I still wonder  which  spiritual spell motivated him to  choose the  name  Manorama . In my later life, I  got in deep trouble due to this name. As I was a lecturer in BJB College, there were five lectures who bore the same  name Manorama ... So it was natural to be confused among them.
                                   

My uncle was an undergraduate at  Fakir Mohan College, Baleswar, in the year 1948. He had taken English as his  honours subject. He could have chosen a beautiful name for me. In my later life, I understood the significance of my name.My uncle didn't want to disregard the wishes of my grandfather. My uncle was also deeply inspired by the  leftist ideals.
 My father was a poet, a distinguished figure of our village. He had  joined the Ajad Hind Fauj of Subhash Chandra Bose. He had visualised his dreams of seeing India free  from the clutches of Britishers. He wished to fulfill all his hopes in the liberated nation. He owed great reverence for all  women.  I marked him saving these emotions deep in the heart throughout his life.
Indian independence was both a hotly  debatable topic and a cherished dream among my all uncles and father at that time.Three of my cousins were engaged in teaching at that time, and  they too passionately engaged  in that discussion. Our house was then a creative hub for all such intellectual discussion. 

My grandfather was an affluent and reputed figure of northern Baleswar. Everyone knew the unique tradition and rich lineage of our family. All the respectable personalities admiringly received our hospitality. Even notable figures like Chief Ministers Biju Patnaik and Nilamani Routroy visited our house . Eminent administrators B.C Mathur and T. Vijay Sekharan, the then collectors also graced  our house,on occasion

An astrologer once analysed my birth chart and predicted a great fortune would be endowed on my father due to the favourable position of Jupiter in his  house in my  horoscope. He also predicted that after my marriage, my husband would benefit due to the might of my luck. I have felt the truth of this prophecy. After my marriage, my in-laws' house experienced  a remarkable improvement in reputation and wealth.