one in the evening
Since then ten years had passed away , and in the great city the memory of my village home had grown dim . As long as I had eyesight , Calcutta with its busy life screened from view the memory of my early days . But when I lost my eyesight I knew for the first time that Calcutta allured only the eyes : it could not fill the mind . And now , in my blindness , the scenes of my childhood shone out once more , like stars that appear one by one in the evening sky at the end of the day . It was the beginning of November when we left Calcutta for Harsingpur . The place was new to me , but the scents and sounds of the countryside pressed round and embraced me . The morning breeze coming fresh from the newly ploughed land , the sweet and tender smell of the flowering mustard , the shepherd-boy 's flute sounding in the distance , even the creaking noise of the bullock-cart , as it groaned over the broken village road , filled my world with delight .