There was a small mud house on the edge of the village. The roof of the house was covered with old tiles, the walls were covered with mud smeared with cow dung, and a small grove of basil in the courtyard. Savitri lived in that house.
Savitri's childhood was not rich, but it was not empty either. There was poverty, hardship, but there was contentment in her heart.
While the morning was still early, Savitri's mother's voice would come –
"Savi, wake up. The roosters have crowed."
Savitri would wake up half asleep. She would pull aside the thin sheet covering her body and come into the courtyard. The earthy smell of the earth would waft in the cold wind. The bells of the bulls' bells could be heard somewhere far away.
Mother would already get up and light the stove. The smell of wood burning in the stove and the aroma of bread baking on the griddle would permeate the entire house.
"Mother, will I be late for school today?" Savitri would ask.
Mother would say with a smile,
"First give water to the animals. Then go to school."
Savitri never found all that work a burden. She was used to work since childhood.
She would keep a bucket of water in front of the cow tied up in the yard. She would wave her hand over the cow's head and say,
"Take the cow, drink the water."
Most girls in the village had a childhood like this – a mix of housework, farming and school.
Savitri's Bapu farmed on a small farm. Two acres of dry land. Everything depended on the rain.
Sometimes when there was good rain, there was happiness in the house.
But when there was less rain, everyone's faces were worried.
Once Savitri asked Bapu,
"Why aren't we rich like the people in the city?"
Bapu remained silent for a while. Then he said with a smile,
"Even though we are poor, we have soil. This is our wealth."
At that time, Savitri did not fully understand the meaning of that sentence, but the words remained somewhere in her mind.
The school was about two kilometers away from the village. Savitri and her friends used to walk every day. There were fields, trees, and sometimes a stream on the road.
They would sing songs and laugh while walking.
"Savi, what will you become when you grow up?" her friend Lakshmi once asked.
Savitri thought for a while and said,
"I don't know. But I want to do something big."
Lakshmi immediately smiled,
"What does big mean?"
Savitri did not have an answer to that question.
But she had a small dream in her mind – to do something different.
Savitri was smart at school. Teachers always praised her.
"This girl will go far," the teachers had once told her mother.
Pride shone in her mother's eyes.
But the situation at home was different. Education, dreams, career – all these words were heard more in the city. In the village, there were different rules for girls.
When a girl grew up, people would ask her –
"When will you get married?"
Savitri was still young then.
She didn't even understand the meaning of those questions.
Her world was very simple.
Getting wet in the rain.
Eating bread sitting on the farm embankment.
Climbing trees with her friends.
And sleeping in the courtyard at night looking at the sky.
Sometimes at night Bapu would point to the stars and tell stories.
"Look at those seven sages. And that moon."
Savitri would listen with wide eyes.
"Bapu, when I grow up, I will go to see the city," she once said.
Bapu placed his hand on her head.
"You will go. But don't forget your soil."
Savitri shook her head.
At that time, she didn't have very big dreams.
But there was one thing –
She felt that her life would not be limited to this small house.
But at that time she was just a simple village girl.
There was poverty, sometimes she had to sleep on half a stomach.
It was a great joy to get new clothes during festivals.
But in all that, there was love in the house.
Mother's support, Bapu's love, and the identity of the village.
Savitri was growing up in that small world.
She did not yet know how many turns life would take.
Conflicts would come.
Decisions would have to be made.
But before all that, there was a stage —
her simple, peaceful, and contented childhood.
There was poverty,
but her heart was rich.
And perhaps
that very soil had created the strength in her to stand forward.