- The author reminisces about their childhood bull named Hansha from their village in India. As a young calf, Hansha was playful and friendly towards the children but also exhibited defiant, independent behavior. - By the time the author visited their village again a few years later, Hansha had grown into a strong, solitary bull that did not get along with other cattle and needed his own attendant. Though he eventually did farm work, Hansha maintained his independent spirit. - Watching their mischievous grandson play reminded the author of Hansha and triggered memories of their carefree childhood in the village.

1. 02 / My Village Memories – ‘Hansha’
Friends, I am sure that you would get surprised or may be taken a back with the above
Title. I won’t keep you in suspense for long.
‘Hansha’ is name of my Bull. Surprised again? I have not taken to farming. This is the
story from my childhood and there was a specific occasion which made me to recollect this
story from my childhood. Let me narrate the story of my ‘Hansha’ to start with.
Once upon a time I also had a village like every one. Now it is no more, meaning nobody
is staying there regularly. I had been to my village way back in October 1967 for the last
time. However the story of ‘Hansha’ started much earlier in 1961. My father used to take
us to the village every alternate year. By the way, I have not told you where my village is
located. The name of my village is ‘Ambere Khurd ‘located in Jaigad creek.
We had to go by steamer to Jaigad. The steamer would leave from ‘Bhaucha Dhakka’ at
about 10 am and would reach Jaigad at 8 pm. As there was no jetty at Jaigad, The Steamer
would halt away from shore in the sea. The passengers were required to jump in the small
boat. 10 sailors would row the small boat to the shore. We would spend that night at Jaigad
and would proceed to our village next day morning at 6 am in a launch. (Small boat driven
by engine). We would reach our village by 10 am. Travel time of over 24 hours. Then we
had to climb the small mountain for another one hour with our luggage. Jaigad creek was
so far away that the Launch would reach the last destination by 12.30 noon.
Half way to our house, we would halt and look back to the creek. What a beautiful sight.
I had taken a nice snap from that spot. We enlarged that photo and presented to our Poona
uncle as a token gift when he moved to his newly constructed Bungalow. He also promptly
put the frame in his living room. Even today after so many years, I can visualize that
scene. I have been doing Nature photography for many years but very few scenes can
compete with this view.
Some times, our youngest uncle would send a small boat to Jaigad. In that case we would
take a boat ride to our village. We would reach our village shore at about mid-night.
We would take rest in our grocery shop on the shore and used to climb the small mountain

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in the morning. I still remember the journey in a small boat from Jaigad to our village. Cool
breeze would tempt our eyes to close in the back drop of musical sound of waves. The
sky with moon and twinkling stars in the sky would complete the scene.
Friends, I am sure that now you must be wondering about the title. Is this a story of my
village or ‘Hansha’? But If I have to talk about my ‘Hansha’, then I have to narrate a story
of my village. Both are inseparable.
We had gone to our village way back in October 1961. I was barely 10 years old. We had
number of bulls, cows, and buffalos in the village. During that time, one cow delivered a
male ‘Bachada’. His colour was black with white patch on the forehead. We decided to call
him ‘Hansha’. His mother was very calm and would allow us to touch and pamper
‘Hansha’.
After about a week, we took ‘Hansha’ for a ride in our compound with a small rope around
his neck. (As if he was a pet dog. ) He behaved like an obedient dog initially but suddenly
showed his true colours. He shook his head so heavily that we lost the grip of the rope. He
was free. Hansha started dancing. Yes, I mean it. Have you ever seen a dance of such a
young bull? He was throwing his front legs in forward direction and would lift back legs
above the ground. We had no choice but to call our Aunty. She immediately caught hold of
Hansha and tied him to the hook. Hansha was very friendly with us. We would play
boxing with him. Both enjoyed the play.
Our holiday evaporated in no time. We planned our return journey to Mumbai. Previous
day, we all cried putting our little hands around his neck. We could see even Hansha’s
eyes getting watery with this love. Hansha returned the love by scratching his head on our
hand.
We returned back to Mumbai and our routine started all over again. However the
memories of Hansha would make us sentimental. Then I used to write letter to my uncle
and aunty and enquire about Hansha. Two years, passed…..
Once again, we visited our village in October 1963. Now Hansha was 2 years old. He was
no more our small Hansha but now he was full grown Bull. His Horns had turned
backwards. He had continued his style of boxing by his forehead. His aggressive nature

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was totally contradictory with his mother. (Incidentally I am also of an aggressive nature
totally in contradiction with my mother.)
He could not be sent along with other cattle as he would pick a fight against any one and
try to show his strength. He was probably adopting US Foreign Policy. Hence, a separate
servant was kept to look after him. Hansha was not allowed to mix with other cattle from
the village. He was given a special protein diet and green grass. This was not done to
prepare for any Bull fights. My uncle was a farmer. Eventually Hansha was supposed to do
farming work but Hansha was not willing to bow his head for farming work. As if he was
not born for such petty work. He was a born Manager. Nevertheless, Hansha soon
understood the reality and was ready to do farming work.
It was quite surprising that Hansha recognized all of us in our following visits in 1963,
1965, 1967. Whether he was our pet dog in previous birth?
My last trip to village was in 1967 because I lost my Father in August, 1969. I do not know
as to how many more years Hansha lived? But he is still young in my mind.
Now, let me clarify as to why I remembered Hansha suddenly? Time to have one more
twist in the story.
Aryan, my Grandson was 2 years old. Very mischievous since childhood. He won’t play at
one place for long. Very curious. No risk perception. Not bothered for injuries while
playing. One night he was playing and dancing on a steel bed. Missed one step and his
forehead got hit on bar. He vomited after 2 hours. However, next day he went to school as
usual.
He was taken to a doctor in the afternoon. Doctor took X-ray of his skull. Nothing was
materially wrong. He prescribed few medicines. It was really a tough task for my daughter
to take care of him. Aryan likes to visit my residence as he gets our special attention. With
his child play, I suddenly remembered my Hansha and my childhood days at village.
Our mind is like a bottle of perfume. When the lid gets opened, then memories of
childhood evaporate like a perfume.

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