Cherished mornings with bhapa pitha and tea

During our childhood, we did not have devices to keep ourselves entertained. We enjoyed nature and life -- This is something many of us grew up hearing. We hear stories of villages from our parents and grandparents. They talk about the games they played, the food they enjoyed, and the contrasts in the lives led by different generations. Growing up abroad, these stories always fascinated me. I never got to witness the magic of winters in Bangladesh, and craved for hot pithas. As winter sets in this year, I am reminded of my first ever trip to my village in Rangpur, where I stayed at my grandma's house. Not only did I enjoy the calmness of the stay, but also the little ways in which our lives are different.

Mornings usually began with bhapa pithas, an iconic winter delicacy. The melting gur and soft narikel tasted divine, especially during the early hours of the day. I sat near the stove, while nani made them with gentle care. I enjoyed the winter sunshine with a cup of warm tea and good company.

The village roads beautifully intertwine across fields, besides ponds and many other scenic locations. You can walk around for hours without getting tired, and the picturesque scenery demands to be seen. I watched the sky change colours during sunset, while the fog enveloped the surroundings, giving off a hazy feel. I felt the chill and as I wrapped myself under a shawl; I learnt to appreciate the warmth of little things.

From winter vegetables to late night barbecues, I enjoyed everything in Rangpur. I sat around a bonfire and talked about resolutions. I played badminton in the empty fields and read books amidst the greenery. I talked to my grandma about her childhood and heard old anecdotes. I bonded with people over tea and laughed with all my heart. For the first time ever, I lived the stories I heard as a child.