The influence of winter in rural Bangladesh

Recently, life has become busier, and we have become more accustomed to modern life. As a result, many of us find it hard to gather as a group and head to the village. Even when we get a vacation suddenly, we often end up having a rooftop barbecue or a quick day trip. However, those who get the opportunity to rush to the village even for a short time, escaping the constraints of their busy lives, can still experience the joy of winter picnics and the warmth of genuine hospitality that they may have left behind.

I have already mentioned the various arrangements made during winter in rural life, but if I do not talk about how winter disrupts the rural people, then the full picture of winter in the village will remain incomplete. In the village, there is no warmth from an electric heater, no softness of a woolen blanket, or the promise of care from Vaseline or glycerin. Instead, the harshest and most intense form of winter is felt there. Village people endure the cold wrapped in handwoven shawls and mufflers. Instead of blankets that smell of naphthalene, rural folks wrap themselves in quilts made of silk cotton, infused with the fragrance of neem leaves, during the winter months. To ward off the cold, they warm their hands by the fire and keep a kerosene lamp or a piece of burning coal in a corner of the house. Since the majority of the people in rural settlements are laborers, and the burden of poverty is a constant presence in their lives, they have to rush to markets, fields, and other places even during the harshest winters. A very familiar sight on a winter morning in the village is Kalimuddin, the boatman, or Hasan from the fishermen’s neighborhood, walking along the edge of the field through the mist.

I mentioned earlier that the villages of Bengal are losing their original form due to the rapid changes taking place. That is why, perhaps, in some well-off households, people ward off the cold with warm blankets and buy winter clothes from stores. However, the harsh reality of the poor suffering during winter is still very apparent in the villages today. Even now, Kolimuddin and Hasan have to ignore the cold and rush to fight for survival. Their profession or means of livelihood might have changed. Kolimuddin might now be operating an engine instead of steering a boat, while Hasan might be considering catching fish with a current net. Yet, they rush along the edges of the fields on their cracked feet on fog-covered mornings.

Shamsur Rahman described the winter in the village as “an ascetic sage.” The poet did not say anything wrong. The bare attire of winter and the motionless nature remind us of meditation. While many things have changed, and some have faded away in the passage of time or the encroachment of modernity, the essence of rural life still carries childhood memories woven into every aspect of winter, a melody filled with affection that has been cherished over a lifetime.