An Analytical Study of Three Childs' Irrigation Project

I went to a flash back this morning. Went back to a time when I was about six years or so. I felt sad for a stupid reason. I saw a pump-set, say a electric motor,  being used to drain underground water for irrigation. This reminded me 'Aayo' (did it come) and 'Aayena' (haven't come yet) game. The game of stupidity, the game of child's curiosity or say the game of nothing; I have no perfect explanation.

Time was different then it is today. There was no problem for irrigation. Water used to run in the stream twice a year. Though it was a long journey for river water to make, but in absence of human exploitation to nature the journey was quite possible : journey through fields and overflowing through traces. Few kilometers of flow would even crossing an East-West highway and enter our village. This was a major and only irrigation back then.
I am sure it's about a decade and one more to become soon. 500 meters of road had enough excitement to bring energy in fatigue three kids of 'nowhere.' I wonder what we were to experiment. Was it - something that goes in comes out, or liquid pressure finds its own level, or pond water shall never overflow through its dam or had an idea of village tourism or waiting for pond to get enough water since pond without water looked a bit odd. Well, whatever the reason was we had enough fun with it. 

First thing first, remove the blockage from the pipe inlet. Listen to sound water makes. Then the thrills begins, something was to put inside and make it pass through a pipe some 8 inch in diameter and some meters in length, taking water down to fill a abandoned pond. I assume pond was some 50 x 30 x 4 making 600 meter cube of water reservoir abandoned for unknown reason or failed fishery project.

Whatever the reason was, we had a wonderland site, which only had a little attention: not let the water pass through the inlet pipe. However our intentions were different. I personally, had a keen desire to see the pond full of water. I believe I must have seen it to its optimum capacity.

Past is gone. The pond is no more, neither flows the water, drain is namesake. We aren't child either. Time is changed. But it was fun; beside the pond irrigation project we had an extra irrigation project. Say, irrigating all 13 or 11 electric poles with urine. Excluding those 'unlucky' poles, viz

First pole: being near to the highway and a bit off side
Third pole: had to cross running after stealing Mulberry and other friend screaming "two guys are stealing."
Skip the pole which is still in front of Radhika 'Miss' house. Not only me but the whole village never bothered to call her 'miss.' Not our fault, we were taught straight forward: call your male teacher -  a sir and lady teacher - a miss. I wonder today, majority or teacher we had in early grade were lady, all married. No one bothered to teach them call Madam instead of Miss. Or had they a serious generation war - wanted to be called forever young? I guess it was grade six when I came to know married women are called Madam and in short its mam.

I wonder where we had that amount of stock urine in our bladder. Accept a challenge today; try urinating each time after walking 50 meters, will you? Else, you are supposed to count how many legs a millipede has.

Please correct the grammar,
Sandip Niroula
Nirajan Niroula
Parshuram Kafle

29 th June 2015


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