One story that always makes me want to slow down in life comes from my mother’s childhood.
I may sound a little ignorant, but I don’t remember the name of the village where she grew up. I only know that it is somewhere in Assam, near Kokrajhar and Udalguri. It was a place of open fields, quiet afternoons, and a slower way of living.
My mother doesn’t often speak about her childhood. Most of her stories stay tucked away in her heart. But one afternoon, as we sat together eating tamarind, she shared a small piece of her life with me.
As a teenager, she had many household responsibilities. Every day was filled with chores fetching water, helping around the house, and doing whatever needed to be done. There was always something waiting for her.
But every now and then, when the work was lighter and no one was calling her name, she had a little escape.
She would climb the enormous tamarind tree beside their home.
One particular afternoon had stayed with her all these years.
The sky was clear, the air was warm, and the tamarinds had finally ripened enough to eat. She tucked a little packet of salt and chilli into her pocket and climbed onto one of the sturdy branches. Sitting comfortably among the leaves, she plucked a tamarind pod and sprinkled it with the salt and chilli before taking her first bite.
She expected the fruit to be sharply sour.
Instead, it surprised her.
It was sweet, with just enough tanginess to make her smile.
She laughed to herself and stayed there for a while, eating one tamarind after another.
A gentle breeze brushed against her face. Birds sang from nearby branches, as if putting on a concert just for her. The leaves rustled softly overhead, and for those few quiet moments, there was nowhere else she needed to be.
No rushing.
No chores.
No expectations.
Just a girl sitting in a tree, enjoying a handful of tamarinds.
Eventually, she climbed down and returned to her work, carrying with her a little more peace than she had before.
It was such a simple story.
No grand adventure.
No remarkable achievement.
Just a quiet afternoon beneath an open sky.
Yet somehow, it has stayed with me.
There are days when I get caught up in deadlines, notifications, and the feeling that I always need to be doing something. I hurry through meals, rush from one task to another, and forget to notice the little moments happening around me.
Then I remember my mother’s story.
I remember a girl in a tamarind tree, tasting unexpected sweetness, listening to birds, and letting the breeze slow her breathing.
It reminds me that life’s greatest comforts are often the simplest ones.
The world may always seem to be in a hurry, but we don’t always have to be. Our minds and our nervous systems need moments of stillness just as much as they need movement.
Sometimes, slowing down isn’t falling behind.
Sometimes, it’s the sweetest part of the journey.
– Christina K Sangma
