The Black Raspberry Tree

Just like a children fantasy novel, my grandfather’s house was in an idyllic village – Jalalpur (Assam). I often wonder, probably this is one of the best things that ever happened to my life. I am not imagining or daydreaming, but the village actually flaunts a meandering river, a small sandy riverbed, a tea garden, numerous hillocks and miles spread paddy field. I remember, my sister and me used to wait thirstily for our summer and winter vacations and spend days and nights nagging behind our parents to take us there. The moment our bus reached the last stop, everything turned magical. Starting from taking a ferry for crossing the river to walking half a kilometer through bamboo bush shades and by the paddy-field-side, the journey to dadu’s house is still as surreal as it was 12-15 years ago.

There was a black raspberry tree just beside the pond near a huge coconut tree. It was a thin tree with even thinner branches. Don’t know why, but it was strategically located just on the pond boundary and catching those distant black raspberries was almost risking the life. But we, the little gang were very desperate to have them and our adventure used to start when every body was asleep after lunch.

After so many years, every time when I'm in a fruit market, consciously or unconsciously, I look for those small-black-thousand-dimpled-juicy-fruit. But just like those lazy summer afternoons, these black raspberries also seem to have vanished from the world.