I couldn’t miss this opportunity of going with BB daju. Cheuribotey is a steep downhill walk for 2 hours, but with BB daju’s endless stories and beedi breaks, the walk is fun and goes by easy.
As we descend at a moderate pace, the scene quickly changes from the endless green expanse of cardamom plantations to golden terraces of rice. In between the stalks I spot the hunched backs of farmers as they tirelessly work. Harvesting is also a community activity where family members, friends and neighbours join in to work in the fields. Though the work is back-breaking, the expressions on their faces emit joy and pride at their harvest for the year.
BB daju comes from the Terai region of Nepal where they use machines and rollers for harvesting; in the process the rice loses its nutrition and various other properties. His eyes light up when he explains how in Sikkim harvesting of rice is done using old school methods, which leaves the rice with all the healthy benefits it has to offer.
He points towards the fields and explains how the paddy is cut and laid out in the sun and later carried to a larger area in the field called “khaley gara.”(flat land in the middle of paddy fields).
A little while later, we reach the khaley garaa, where the threshing is being done by the dajus to separate the paddy grain from the rest of the cut crop.
Around 2 in the afternoon the dajus retire for a quick lunch, leaving me enough time to wander around in the surrounding fields.
As I am walking, a small boy with green little gumboots invites me to his house to relish on some freshly cut sugarcane; it was the juiciest sugarcane I ever tasted in my life.
When I head back to the garaa I spot BB daju squatted on the grass, peering into the far distance with a thoughtful yet bemused expression. A corner of his mouth turns up; he must have recollected some fond memory when he was just a boy or a lost love perhaps? I decide to let him stay lost in his thoughts a little longer and wander off a bit further down.
I reach a “yaksa” on the other end of the fields, which offers a panoramic view of the golden fields below. Yaksa is basically a resting shed in the middle of the fields to provide rest to the farmers. Finding this yaksa was a mere accident but probably the best find ever. I could go back to this yaksa anytime, just sitting there listening to the sound of a “kholcha”(A small stream) passing nearby and feeling the cool breeze brush against my face, at times bringing with it the smell of freshly cut paddy.
I’ve lost all sense of time till a bird’s sharp shrill breaks me out of my reverie. It’s been almost an hour since I’ve been sitting there just staring and appreciating the beauty I had left behind growing up. When I get back, the dajus are already in the process of cleaning the rice grains after the threshing. The sun has already set on this side of the hill.
They take turns collecting the dusty rice. The dust is blown clean using a “nanglo,” ( A flat round woven tray made up of bamboo used for winnowing) after which the rice is collected in sacks for drying.
Once the day’s activities are over, we trudge wearily back home. The fields look forlorn against the setting sun and the farmers are nowhere to be seen. We quicken our pace so that we reach home before it gets completely dark. As I try to keep pace with BB daju, my heart swells with pride for my beautiful land and its farmers.
I had experienced something wonderful today and eagerly await my next trip with BB daju, who I hope won’t mind a pestering busybody drumming him with endless questions.
