Some villages don’t make noise about themselves. They just are. Naugaon, sitting quietly in the Bhanoli block of Almora, is one of those places. It’s small, scattered between hills and farms, yet full of life that moves at its own gentle pace.
When you input Naugaon, you don’t see fancy homes or busy streets. What you feel first is the हवा की ठंडक (cool breeze) and the faint scent of moist soil. The hills stand near, looking over the people like old buddies.
The village wakes early. The first mild touches the terraced fields, and the sky slowly turns golden. Someone starts the चूल्हा (dust range), and the air fills with the smell of burning timber. You listen to the low hum of voices, the ring of गाय की घंटी (cowbells), and the steady sound of a person taking walks to fetch water.
There’s no rush right here. People circulate with time, no longer against it. A few guys head in the direction of the fields with their gear slung over their shoulders. Women walk up the slopes sporting घास के टोकरे (baskets of grass) balanced on their heads. Children, their uniforms slightly wrinkled, snigger in their manner as they go to school. Life here is simple, but no longer smooth. Every day takes an attempt, but there’s peace in that effort.
Most families in Naugaon live off the land. They grow what they eat: मंडुवा (finger millet), राजमा (beans), गहत (horse gram), and seasonal veggies. You’ll often see entire households running collectively in the fields, their laughter blending with the sound of rustling leaves.
There’s no large machinery here. Everything depends on fingers, soil, and staying power. When harvest time comes, it’s not simply paintings; it’s a celebration. People assist each other, share food, and sing antique songs that echo through the valley.
One antique farmer informed me as soon as, “धरती माँ है, जितना देगा उतना ही लेगा।”
(The earth is a mother, she gives the best that you surely earn.)
The houses in Naugaon are simple, fabricated from stone, dust, and wood. The verandas are small but constantly filled with warmth. Elders sit down outdoors in the sun, sipping चाय (tea) and watching existence go through. Children play with hand-crafted toys, and puppies nap within the color of fruit bushes.
There’s a feel of belonging right here, the type that metropolis life not often gives. Everyone knows all and sundry. If a person falls ill, the entire village checks in. If there’s a marriage, it’s no longer a family event, it’s the village’s event.
At the coronary heart of the village stands a small देवता (deity) temple, easy yet complete in faith. Every festival, Harela, Diwali, Makar Sankranti, brings human beings together. You can pay attention to the beats of ढोल-दमाऊं (traditional drums) echoing through the hills. Children run around with sparklers, girls put together candies, and guys sing folk songs that have been handed down for generations.
It’s now not about big rituals. It’s about togetherness. The laughter, the dancing, the small prayers, that’s what keeps the village spirit alive.
There’s a small authorities college in Naugaon. The walls are probably antique, but the internal energy is new. Kids sit down on mats, studying aloud, while their teacher writes slowly on the blackboard. Some kids dream of becoming teachers, others of running in towns.
One mom stated softly, “हम चाहते हैं हमारे बच्चे गाँव के बाहर दुनिया देखें।”
(We need our youngsters to look beyond our hills.)
Change is coming slowly, through education, awareness, and courage. Yet, the people of Naugaon hold on to their roots. They know where they belong.
Every season paints Naugaon differently. Summers bring bright fields and clear skies. Monsoons turn the hills green and alive. Winters make the nights cold but beautiful, smoke rising from every chimney, people sitting around fires, wrapped in thick कंबल (blankets). The silence here isn’t empty. It’s full of life, of memory, of stories.
If you spend a few days here, you start to understand that life doesn’t need much. A small house, good soil, kind people, and peace in your heart. That’s all.
Before you leave, someone will hand you a cup of गुड़ वाली चाय (tea with jaggery) and smile. They won’t say much. They don’t need to. The hills say everything.
“यहाँ वक्त भी धीरे चलता है, और दिल भी हल्का लगता है।”
(Time moves slower here, and the heart feels lighter.)
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