Leaving Khowai behind, we then moved towards Kopai...we could have taken the road along the Khowai but the approaching evening and the precariousness of the road made us think sense as we drove back to the Sonajhuri more and from there took the road leading to Goalpara and beyond. It took about 15 odd minutes to reach the bridge over Kopai. The thin brown stream below the bridge flows as a mocking tribute to the Kopai that swells ferociously during monsoons. We park the car by the side of the bridge and climb down the steep side by the bridge to reach the river, the moist red earth creating footprints as we move further down. As we sit by the River on the red soil on a few luckily found boulders, the river gurgles faintly close by on its endless journey witnessing years and years of life around.
As I step foot on the ground, on the other side a herd of cows come slowly down the slope and enter the water accompanied by a boy of about 12 or 13 who also steps in...one by one he leads them into the water and then swims accross, his height being short enough for him having to swim through...they all reach this side and in the same mechanical way walk down the banks towards home...I wonder how life goes on in the same way fro them everyday. they cross this river twice everyday from this side to that and yet the monotony and drdgery of their lives do not drive them crazy to the hilt...they seem content with what they have. Why then do we, more educated, more civilized lot have this source of constant deprivation in life? However much we get we still want more...maybe it is the distance from the roots or maybe because of our lack of association with nature...I wonder! As we walk back to the car darkness and silence engulfs us on our journey back home. The multitutde of glow worms and stars in an ethereal unison cast a magical spell all around with the crickets accompanying them with their incessant sound. The moon shines yet again and lights us the world around and yet again we retire to the comforts of our home, make a quick dinner and finish it off discussing the wanderings of the day. The terrace calls yet again as we go up and sit in the shimmering moonlit terrace remembering the poet and singing songs endlessly. It dawns on us how and why he had written 'Chader hashir badh bhengeche uchle pore alo...o rojoni gondha tomar gondho sudha dhalo'...