All posts tagged: Rural India

India

He woke up four inches below the snow like bed. But the day ahead was going to be as treacherous. He felt excited because travelling to rural India gave a smile to his face. Indian villages to a good extent still practice their civilisational old traditions. The air is different, the land for miles is green. But leaving Delhi behind is a lengthy affair. Their is an infrastructure push. Hundreds and thousands of trees that once gave beauty, breath and shade have now given way to expressway and highways and along with it empty, always being constructed high rise buildings. Slowly we start going past it. And we start seeing cow dung cakes kept for sun drying for kilometres. For centuries cow dung cakes known as “upla” in Hindi are used for cooking, cleaning homes and for homa- the fire worship. It’s smoke is known to purify the environment killing small insects and creatures. Many years ago someone said to Nara about India, when he was roaming in the river valleys of Kedar, that India …

LAST FLIGHT OF AN OWL

He kept looking towards the sky while floating in the water kept for cows. Big round button yellow eyes like ever watching you do the doing. His death seemed such that at one time I felt he chose it. But would a predator or anyone can choose his own death? May be. But When Maharaj arrived, he first closed his eyes. May be he needed someone to close his eyes before it could be plucked out. May be he earned this burial. To only put a stop to this cycle. May his body rests and the spirit awakens. Aum Shanti

The Wedding Song

In her wedding dress that one day she stopped counting years   I met J uncle on a very cold january morning this year. It was raining and we stood outside an empty swimming pool. His room – 705, is just beneath my room – 805, where i am writing this. J uncle had his own quiet world till he met my sister. My sister, Ruspsi is a kathak dancer(banaras gharana). J uncle would not know about it for a month till one day they meet in the elevator, she moved and her ghungroo rolled from her bag. J uncle and his lovely wife had come from Banaras. In a quest to live with their son, they sold their house. They used to sing all morning there, he told me. He disliked it here. Everything. But he never spoke about it. He was just visibly sad. In his walk, thats how mostly i saw of him. A singer coming from a gharana who doesn’t sing anymore. In the meantime J uncle grew fond of my …

To the Western Indian Border

Jaisalmer to Tanot : Longewala : Pabu ki dhani – After reaching back to Jaisalmer from Khuri i decided to travel to Longewala- a border village and visit Tanot temple. It was 120 kilometres from the city and buses would only go to Ramgarh-half way. So i rented a Suzuki bike and rode for 3 days around border villages. The road to Tanot temple was like riding a snake, and that snake is slithering across the horizon of Sand and Sky that too at night. It was late when i reached .Around 9. I went to the only hotel-dharamsala and found no body there. It was open. And it was empty. Unbolted doors were beating heavily. The wind was making an impression. And over all no body seemed to have any interest either in the temple or in the popular last army post. I seemed to be the only one- once excited visitor to have come to this ghost-not-even-a-town. I sat outside that hotel on earth near my bike, waiting for someone to happen. I …