DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.22463#0440
Six £im«lKti»H 4<m»« August 26, 195G
DAMSONG TO KALIAMBONG
BY KODAY
The great Damsong—
Lord of the mountains
smiles in the early dawn
to wish us 'Bon Voyage'!
Yes, to us upon whoBe
feet we live and toil, He
is the father and the lord.
Kaman closes for the
day to celebrate the an-
niversary of the Indepen-
dence Day. Our sickles
and hammers get a rest
for the day. We are the
singing birds out of the
cage. We olean our fea-
thers to fly beyond these
mountains to the land of
BhadrAlogs Mother of
my child is busy prepa-
ring for the journey. She
has toiied bard to clean
up my Katlay olothes
Now I put them on with
pride and pleasure. I
look a different man—a
gentleman to town—to be
perfeot. She gives me a
sweet smile. ''I feel ten
years- younger" I say.
She blushes. We laugh
heartily together. My
child stares at me and
cackles. I put on my cap.
A part of it, is burnt
while drying on the fire.
Mother of my child lends
me her coloured Patuka.
I make a decent Pugree
out of it. ''You look a
real Rajkumar"! she says
winking smilingly. I find
poetry in her pretty-
pretty eyes. They are
fire flies. She looks ravi-
sbingly beautiful in her
new Choli. I had bought
it only last week from
Algarah. I had paid three
rupees in full for it. O!
how the colour matches
with the glorious dawn.
"Like this dawn Bhe had
dawned in my life many
many years ago". My
heart fills with emotion.
I have saved a five rupee
note, five annas and two
pice for this occasion and
they are securely tied in
my Pugree.
Some one gives a
shrill whistle. Yes, that's
the signal from the ren-
dezvous. Here we go to
join the gang. Mother of
my child forgets her
Katwa. "0, that's a bad
sign" 1 Bay. 1 loose my
temper. She knows my
habit. So we move on.
The sun beams with smile
at Deorali. Here the gang
has already assembled My
Sol.TlNl walks graciously
like a queen. The flower
on her hair plays with
the sun shine. She hums
a folk tune. It flows
swinging in the air. The
youths applaudeB. 'HO !
HO!!' I join them, 'yah
Ho!!' Mother of my child
winks at ran. Birman the
old wiseman leads the
duet. He is the soul of
our village—a leader whom
we follow without question.
At Deorali we offer
Pathi to Devi Deorali.
Old Birman mutters—
"0 Devi ! let this journey
be safe and sound. Do
protect ub from all evils".
There is music in the
air. The birds sing. The
monkeys dance The sun
smiles bright. Far from
beyond the Himalayas say,
"Good day ! my ohildren,
I am with you. Go ahead
and drink deep this cup
of blissful joy."
Now we are on the
cart road. Kaliambong the
lai.il of our dream is not
far away. Red and white
roofs of buildings big and
small lie glimmrring under
the blue dome. A car
darts towards us. Men
and women sit inside and
outside. A few adven-
tures ones are on the top
and at the sides. 'Two
rupees ! Two rupees [' the
driver announces. "Do
you hear the fool—my
boy ?" old Birman blurts
out. "These people want
to live-v on other STeatn
and lives He Will take
us to hell. Beware my
children we are going to
town the land of oheats.
They will skin you off
DAMSONG TO KALIAMBONG
BY KODAY
The great Damsong—
Lord of the mountains
smiles in the early dawn
to wish us 'Bon Voyage'!
Yes, to us upon whoBe
feet we live and toil, He
is the father and the lord.
Kaman closes for the
day to celebrate the an-
niversary of the Indepen-
dence Day. Our sickles
and hammers get a rest
for the day. We are the
singing birds out of the
cage. We olean our fea-
thers to fly beyond these
mountains to the land of
BhadrAlogs Mother of
my child is busy prepa-
ring for the journey. She
has toiied bard to clean
up my Katlay olothes
Now I put them on with
pride and pleasure. I
look a different man—a
gentleman to town—to be
perfeot. She gives me a
sweet smile. ''I feel ten
years- younger" I say.
She blushes. We laugh
heartily together. My
child stares at me and
cackles. I put on my cap.
A part of it, is burnt
while drying on the fire.
Mother of my child lends
me her coloured Patuka.
I make a decent Pugree
out of it. ''You look a
real Rajkumar"! she says
winking smilingly. I find
poetry in her pretty-
pretty eyes. They are
fire flies. She looks ravi-
sbingly beautiful in her
new Choli. I had bought
it only last week from
Algarah. I had paid three
rupees in full for it. O!
how the colour matches
with the glorious dawn.
"Like this dawn Bhe had
dawned in my life many
many years ago". My
heart fills with emotion.
I have saved a five rupee
note, five annas and two
pice for this occasion and
they are securely tied in
my Pugree.
Some one gives a
shrill whistle. Yes, that's
the signal from the ren-
dezvous. Here we go to
join the gang. Mother of
my child forgets her
Katwa. "0, that's a bad
sign" 1 Bay. 1 loose my
temper. She knows my
habit. So we move on.
The sun beams with smile
at Deorali. Here the gang
has already assembled My
Sol.TlNl walks graciously
like a queen. The flower
on her hair plays with
the sun shine. She hums
a folk tune. It flows
swinging in the air. The
youths applaudeB. 'HO !
HO!!' I join them, 'yah
Ho!!' Mother of my child
winks at ran. Birman the
old wiseman leads the
duet. He is the soul of
our village—a leader whom
we follow without question.
At Deorali we offer
Pathi to Devi Deorali.
Old Birman mutters—
"0 Devi ! let this journey
be safe and sound. Do
protect ub from all evils".
There is music in the
air. The birds sing. The
monkeys dance The sun
smiles bright. Far from
beyond the Himalayas say,
"Good day ! my ohildren,
I am with you. Go ahead
and drink deep this cup
of blissful joy."
Now we are on the
cart road. Kaliambong the
lai.il of our dream is not
far away. Red and white
roofs of buildings big and
small lie glimmrring under
the blue dome. A car
darts towards us. Men
and women sit inside and
outside. A few adven-
tures ones are on the top
and at the sides. 'Two
rupees ! Two rupees [' the
driver announces. "Do
you hear the fool—my
boy ?" old Birman blurts
out. "These people want
to live-v on other STeatn
and lives He Will take
us to hell. Beware my
children we are going to
town the land of oheats.
They will skin you off