A Tale of My Grandfather's Farm

In this evocative personal essay, former civil servant and writer Onkar Kedia takes us back to the Assam of his childhood—specifically to Barpeta Road and Kaithalkuchi. Through tender memories of his grandfather, a beloved farm, and a simple gate that once connected two families, the piece captures a world where affection was effortless and deeply rooted. "A Tale of My Grandfather's Farm" is a gentle meditation on the past memories which we carry with us even after decades.

A Tale of My Grandfather's Farm 

Onkar Kedia

As my train passed through Kaithalkuchi, a small town in Assam, 60-year old memories came rushing to my mind. My maternal grandfather(Nana) had a large farm there, though his home was located at Barpeta Road, about sixty kilometres away. His forefathers had come to Assam from Rajasthan as was the case with my paternal grandfather and many other Marwaris, settled in Assam. 

Both my grandfathers had lived at other places in Assam before finally settling down at Barpeta Road. Their houses were adjacent to each other, but this was not a factor in my parents' marriage. The two families moved to Barpeta Road only after the damage had been done. The prospect of staying close to each other must have been quite tempting to them at a time when they needed a lot of support to be able to sail through. 

There was a small gate between the two houses which allowed the inmates to cross over freely without the requirement of any passport, visa or identity card. The gate used to be closed during night. This was the only time when the two houses could assert their separate identities. I'm not sure if the two grandfathers liked this kind of free movement, but even if they didn't, they must have been overruled by other members of the two families. 

From Barpeta Road, my maternal grandfather often travelled to Kaithalkuchi to take care of his farm. Sometimes, he stayed there for days together. The farm must have provided him a good excuse to stay away from two homes, trying to turn into one.  At Barpeta Road, we never saw him wearing more than a dhoti and a baniyan. This was considered good enough to roam around in the small town. At home, even a baniyan was a rarity. Whenever he put on a kurta, we knew, he was all set to go to Kaithalkuchi. 

His mode of transport was always a passenger train which during those days ran at its whims and fancies. When he finally boarded the train, we all felt relieved as if he had got something he was not entitled to. I don't think, any buses plied between Kaithalkuchi and Barpeta Road during those days. Both towns were perhaps too small to attract the attention of buses.

My Nana had a small hut on his farm. He was in the habit of saying 'na' 'na' to every request made to him by children, but on a few occasions we managed to tag along with him during his journey to Kaithalkucuhi. Train journey itself was a big attraction for us. I have memories of having stayed a couple of times in the hut on his farm. It was fun and adventure. He spoke to his workers in fluent Assamese. At home, he would read Assamese religious texts. This was nothing unusual for marwari families, settled in Assam for generations. He had asthma and there never was a dearth of persistent phlegm in his chest. Whenever he succeeded in throwing it out, he would loudly exclaim 'Hori bol', a typical Assamese sigh of relief.  

Mostly,  he went to Kaithalkuchi alone. Such places are nice for visiting a couple of times after which they start boring you unless, of course, you are my Nana. I don't think, anyone else in the family had much attachment with Kaithalkuchi. It was difficult for a humble farm to sustain the attachment of an entire family. I always found the dilapidated cinema hall at Barpeta Road a much bigger attraction. It was possible to watch a movie there by paying 25 paisa which during those days was a fortune we could afford. 

Often, my Nana would bring farm-grown fruits and vegetables when he returned from  Kaithalkuchi. These always tasted better than what we found in the local market. Taste of a fruit doesn't entirely lie in the fruit. Some of it lies in the mind too. We obviously had more attachment with the products of the farm than the farm itself. 

At times, my Nana would return empty-handed. The farm did not always offer something worth carrying. It was not always considerate towards the children eagerly waiting for its products back home. Nana was never welcome empty-handed. On those occasions, I must admit, my affection for him wavered a little. It steadied only after he brought something from his next visit to Kaithalkuchi. 

When Indira Gandhi brought in the Land Ceiling Act, his farm was gone. It must have been quite a shock to him. To me and to the rest of the family, it didn't make much of a difference. How many members in two families could cry over a solitary farm?

I remember, when he passed away, a large number of those who had worked for him at the farm came to his home to pay their last respects. They brought along hundreds of raw coconuts with them. They all were very simple people who genuinely loved him. I remember, scores of raw coconuts making their way into the well of the house. When they managed to come out, they used to be so cold that they ran the risk of catching Pneumonia. During those days, the well at home served as the refrigerator. No refrigerator even today can accommodate as many coconuts as it could.

When I passed through Kaithalkuchi today, I realized how drastically things have changed. Now, there are quite a few trains connecting Barpeta Road and Kaithalkuchi. Both places have much better railway stations. But there is no well now. The little gate connecting the two houses no longer exists. And yes, there are no people left who would walk miles carrying hundreds of coconuts as a mark of respect for a man with whom they continued to share a bond long after the farm had ceased to exist.

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Onkar Kedia has been a career Civil Servant who retired from the Central Government Service in 2019. After retirement, he shifted to Assam and joined the state government as Director General of the Sports Authority of Assam. Later, he was appointed as a Member of the Assam Real Estate Appellate Tribunal, where he served until recently. He has been writing poems in Hindi and English on his blogs http://betterurlife.blogspot.com/ and http://onkarkedia.blogspot.com/