A river runs east: Camping by the Indrawati in Bodgaun

(Text and photographs by Veneeta Singha)

October 6, 2015; Sindhupalchowk, Nepal

Wandering around a stretch of tilled earth is, surprisingly and without a shadow of a doubt, an experiential fulfillment. I wax poetic. We set out early for a day at the Bodgaun school — it felt like a morning of relearning the very fundamentals of learning itself. Lunch at the camp has become a communal sharing of nature’s bounty and a narrative event. Geographical drawings, etched on the soil, too. I remembered the word ‘peninsula’ with suddenness. The Kamchatka, the Aral — the world seemed new somehow.

A health camp, a water pipeline project, sewing as a community system, children colouring the Mandala — if the sun were a little more lax, this would have been life itself. Revolving. Resolute. Early morning at 5 in Bodgaun, as the dawn makes darkness unknown, is artful. The sun galvanized the day and the surrounding hills were painted and repainted by mist and light. The starry night is indescribable here so I will not try. The sleepy village had woken — I had found the pastoral inspiration as an image maker. It really is hyperbole itself. Pissarro, then?

The River Indrawati flows by Bodgaun with a presence that can only be termed as sublime. I walked down by the upper riverside — a gleam, a greatness, a cool natural message greeted me. I do not swim but, after a long while, I wished I could. A river is a spirit and it imbues spirit. It is a source and it imbues strength. Bodgaun’s wary yet guffawing residents are my friends now. An elderly Bodgaun basi rasped out — there are three kinds of fish in the river! The names of the three fish I will remember someday with laughter and gratitude in my heart.