Bhuttaa..

Nani ke pahad se jab bhutta aatha tha..

pahad ki khooshboo bator ke lata tha..

Nam sa bhutta jab sukhi se lakdi ki chulhe par bhunta tha..

Kuch mehfil se jam jati thi chulhe ke pass

Aag ki lapte,bhutte ke daane kuch jugal bandi zaroor karte the

maa dhyan se ek seera pakde, ghoomati rehti thi bhuute ko aach pe

dheere dheere jaise seekta jata tha bhutta

lalach bhari aakhon se Neebu ki khoj shuru hoti thi..

A friend of mine just posted on Facebook that wherever we go we just try to recreate the sound, the smell, the taste of our childhood. For me growing up in a hill station, bhutta stands out as very symbolic. It a sight that follows you all along the curving road- a small shanty selling corns to tourists. A smell that makes you remember your small farm, small kitchen garden and the loving hands that grew them..A taste that recalls all the conversations with friends walking along the mall munching on a corn.

But for now all I can do to recreate those memories is sing along these lines:

Hari thi man bhari thi, laakh moti jadi thi
Raaja ji ke baagh men dushaala odhe khadi thi
O~
Kachche-pakke baal hain us ke mukhada hai suhaana, ichak daana
Bolo kyaa?

Bhutta..


Photo credit: sr