Harda – A Seed is Sown

A beautiful story of a memory which is vividly alive to the senses.
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A trip back in time will definitely take me to a day in Harda. It’s a tiny town at the heart of Madhya Pradesh. Unnoticeable railway station, shabby outdoors, pathetic roads, and yet an amazingly calm and earthly demeanor that makes you feel at home.

I first met this place on a wet day. Me and my brother were to appear for an entrance test at our first convent school. It was tough – for English was never our forte. They kept talking to us in that foreign language all the while getting us to appear for tests in Mathematics, Science, and English. I don’t remember the marks I scored then, but the principal seemed pretty satisfied with however we had performed. I remember dad buying our books, notebooks, and our uniforms from their stationery shop. I remember the parking, the church, buildings under construction, ducks, birds, green color of the…

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There are certain things about myself which I rarely if ever reveal to others. I suppose they could be loosely called facts. Are they secrets? I suppose they could be loosely called secrets. I don’t consider them secrets. They’re simply things I don’t feel the need to divulge. Sometimes because they seem to me to...