So the last time I remember
celebrating Bihu with family was way back in 2010 and since then, I have missed
almost every festivity.
It’s a little difficult to explain the feeling of being
away from home when one of your favourite festivals is being celebrated.
Yesterday, when I saw my neighbours celebrating Lohri, it made me a little
nostalgic as it brought back to me memories of my childhood Bihu celebrations.
A recent educational trip of Delhi
University to Assam gave me a unique opportunity of visiting my own home state as a
tourist. And must I here mention that, when you observe a culture as an
outsider, it becomes more interesting. At times, you might be a part of a
culture, but might not appreciate it unless you properly estimate its heritage.
This trip probably made me realize how close I am to my culture and my land and
how much I know about my state. It made me realize that though out my childhood
I have been attached to a certain way of life, which I might never get an opportunity
to relive again. With around 120 students from all around the country, I explored
my land in a way which I never imagined before.
--
For the background, must I here
mention that Bhogali Bihu, one of the
three Bihus we celebrate, is our
harvest festival. Rongali Bihu is
celebrated to mark the beginning of the Assamese new year and is probably the
most well known of all three versions, and it is this Bihu with which you can associate the famous Bihu dance with.
People burning the Meji early in the morning |
Bhogali Bihu, being the harvest
festival is associated with a community fest, which everyone joins in for a
huge get together on the night before the Bihu (called Uruka). Traditionally, people erect makeshift huts and pyramid
shaped structures, known as Bhela Ghor and
Mehi, from bamboo, leaves and thatch,
in which they eat the food prepared for the feast, and then burn the huts the
next morning (Bihu Day).
I basically belong to a very
remote village of Baksa District in Assam. I was born in a village few kilometres
from Bhutan border called Garmara of the Barama constituency. Barama located 80
kms from west of Guwahati, is probably one the most rural places of Assam and
as such tradition still holds a firm grip onto communities residing in
the area.
I moved out of the village within
two years of a birth as my mom and dad decided to settle in Guwahati. However
we still remain the only people in the entire family to move out of the village
with 99% of the family still residing in those remotest corners of the country.
Having brought up in the
cosmopolitan environment of Guwahati, my only gateway to rural life enriched
with rich Assamese culture was during these festivals like Bihu. Every year we
used to drive back to our village a day prior to the festival, and the curious
child inside me used to explore the happenings around me. I remember my cousins
enthusiastically constructing Bhela Ghors and Mejis and spending the entire
night dancing and singing Bihu songs.
The real test was early next morning as tradition has it that you need to take a bath before you burn the structures. In the chilly January mornings, bathing by sitting under the tubewell, in the open, was indeed a daring task. Once done, elders offer prayers and then the mejis and bhela ghors are burnt by the young ones.
After this follows the grand traditional Assamese breakfast with laru, pitha, doi (curd) and sira (Flattened rice). After some quality time in village, we used to return back to Guwahati, eagerly awaiting for the next Bihu.
Construction of Bhela Ghors |
The real test was early next morning as tradition has it that you need to take a bath before you burn the structures. In the chilly January mornings, bathing by sitting under the tubewell, in the open, was indeed a daring task. Once done, elders offer prayers and then the mejis and bhela ghors are burnt by the young ones.
After this follows the grand traditional Assamese breakfast with laru, pitha, doi (curd) and sira (Flattened rice). After some quality time in village, we used to return back to Guwahati, eagerly awaiting for the next Bihu.
Gone are those days. It’s been
almost 10 years now since I last visited my ancestral place. During my trip as
I travelled across some familiar places, it reminded me of those days. And
today, as I sit alone inside a South Delhi cafe on Uruka, I just can’t stop being nostalgic about those days.
Happy Bhogali Bihu everyone!
Comments
Post a Comment