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Rustic Charm
It is a cold Canadian winter afternoon and the snow fall seemed never ending. Looking out from my living room, all I can see is the relentless wind piling on more snow on the endless sea of white around. I could not spot a single human face outside and it seemed all of nature slept contently under this cozy white blanket. The steaming cup of coffee in my hand seemed no good in keeping me from drifting down memory lane.
And now, here I am heading toward my ancestral village in South India in a rickety old bus. The droning engines and the bumpy road seemed to take turns in playing with the many who tried to doze. The seat next to me on my left is empty and I am hoping it would be until I step down from the bus. Getting stuck in the middle of two people in this hot and humid day was not something I am looking forward to right now. My hopes diminished when the driver slowed down to pull over at the wayside tea-stall.
While some of my fellow passengers seemed content to just step down and stretch a little-a few seemed in a hurry to finish their business before the bus starts-well, they had ample time to indulge their stomach with some tea and a deep fried snack as well.
The old lady beside me had kindly enquired as to whether I would alight for a short break-having verified that I did not have any such plans, she entrusted the job of taking care of her seat while she went down for a break.
Life seemed to move on very slow. I preferred a look of pleasant surprise rather than alarm, on the faces of my Grandparents and so, I wished to get home before nightfall.
One by one, my fellow passengers trooped back into the bus and before long we were moving ahead pretty fast. I was glad the seat on my left remained empty and the cool evening breeze got me gladder. The old woman beside me had her oil dripping hair tied into a bun. A tiny cloth bag adorned her waist and a strong smell of neem emanated from her .This was what I noticed about her at the outset. But now I am thinking of a possibly generous spirit inside and the warm smile from that betel chewy red mouth of hers. Carefully counting the few coins she had in her precious bag, she had purchased a small packet of those tempting ‘murukkus’-a popular snack in this area, during the stop over. And with that red mouthed smile she hesitantly offered me some, as well.
Soon, like a few of my fellow passengers she too drifted to her land of no worries-or so I thought. I noticed the land outside getting greener with the lush and vast rice fields,
stretching evenly on both sides of the road. The few white birds which dotted the green fields, were possibly looking for a quick snack of crab or anything they could dig up, before flying back home for the night. A sense of calm and peace descended on me-something that does not always happen when I seek it. Was it the cool weather and serene surrounds that brought about this quiet?
I was not in any physical discomfort –now that the hot and humid afternoon gave way to the cool and pleasant dusk.Oh-well, but the comfort of an air-conditioned room with all luxuries at hand sometimes did not always give me the peace I sought then. On retrospect, I remembered that the old woman beside me and many others like her in these parts of the country seemed self-assured even in the heat of the day when I was fretting and fuming.
I got into this bus-as a restless and impatient passenger and now here I am feeling more peaceful and calm than I expected to feel. The bus is almost nearing my destination but I have now embarked on a new long inward journey, filled with a lot of questions on inner well-being. I slowly alight and make my way through the streets and bylanes filled with these simple village-folk who have not the luxuries and comforts of modern living yet still self-assured ,contented and wise in their own way.
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