I just got back from Home, a wonderful place that is untouched by the evils of society. By Evils I mean, Cellular Networks, E Mails and Facebook. And "Modernity" as we, the lesser souls of the city, know it.
Life in the Village is so different. It's as if the the Village itself is breathing. The rooster actually crows at sunrise, and you awake to trickles of sunlight shooting in through tiled roofs, to the smell of early morning dew and dust (not the city version) in the air, smell of fresh coffee brewing and the morning bath getting ready under burning wood.
Children walk/run to school, chattering about their pony tails and picking interesting stones. In the rare occasion that they do catch a bus, there's a broad smile when they climb it, because its a joy ride for them. A Cadbury Eclairs is a treasure to be savored on a right occasion and the sound of the school bell ringing in the end of class is the sign of freedom. Freedom to run through fields, over bridges, skipping over rivulets and staring at birds, all the way home.
Everyone smiles at everyone, and asks their welfare. Everyone helps everyone and there's never a task a couple of hands can't help you achieve. Old Men and Women tell tales of old, and the grand children run around in the courtyard playing tag. No Complicated Wii and No roller coaster rides that need safety belts to have fun in.
Rivers gurgle their way through the village, gently teasing the rocks and skipping under wooden bridges. Trees are massive skyscrappers, and its amazing what green does to your eyes. Large expanse of green and green, tall trees of areca nut rubbing shoulders with coconut palms , towering over mazes of banana plantations.
And as twilight sets in, flocks of birds settle in for the night in their cosy nests, singing goodnight to world around them. Oil Lamps come out on the "Tulsi" and Gates, and the temple bells ring loudly for the last prayer of the day, before the village goes off to sleep, under the beautiful watch of the twinkling stars.
Cities are just cement and rock. And its making the people in them, just as lifeless as themselves.
Home in the village is the only place I can sit and do Nothing, and still feel content in just being.
Cheers
M
Life in the Village is so different. It's as if the the Village itself is breathing. The rooster actually crows at sunrise, and you awake to trickles of sunlight shooting in through tiled roofs, to the smell of early morning dew and dust (not the city version) in the air, smell of fresh coffee brewing and the morning bath getting ready under burning wood.
Children walk/run to school, chattering about their pony tails and picking interesting stones. In the rare occasion that they do catch a bus, there's a broad smile when they climb it, because its a joy ride for them. A Cadbury Eclairs is a treasure to be savored on a right occasion and the sound of the school bell ringing in the end of class is the sign of freedom. Freedom to run through fields, over bridges, skipping over rivulets and staring at birds, all the way home.
Everyone smiles at everyone, and asks their welfare. Everyone helps everyone and there's never a task a couple of hands can't help you achieve. Old Men and Women tell tales of old, and the grand children run around in the courtyard playing tag. No Complicated Wii and No roller coaster rides that need safety belts to have fun in.
Rivers gurgle their way through the village, gently teasing the rocks and skipping under wooden bridges. Trees are massive skyscrappers, and its amazing what green does to your eyes. Large expanse of green and green, tall trees of areca nut rubbing shoulders with coconut palms , towering over mazes of banana plantations.
And as twilight sets in, flocks of birds settle in for the night in their cosy nests, singing goodnight to world around them. Oil Lamps come out on the "Tulsi" and Gates, and the temple bells ring loudly for the last prayer of the day, before the village goes off to sleep, under the beautiful watch of the twinkling stars.
Cities are just cement and rock. And its making the people in them, just as lifeless as themselves.
Home in the village is the only place I can sit and do Nothing, and still feel content in just being.
Cheers
M