COUNTRY LIFE

It's june end and it is scorching hot; waiting for the monsoon desperately. This time of the year is generally of summer holidays and it reminds me of my visit to my maternal grandmother’s place. I haven’t been there for some years now, but I still remember every detail of the splendid country life.

Surrounded by fields, it’s a small village; ohh sorry, it was a small village; now its no longer a village as mum says. You know how moms are attached to their native places - dismissing their childhood abode as small, isn't exactly the wisest thing to do.

Every time you go there, it's all the same. You will never find anything really special. People wake up at about 4 in the morning. The same sounds, whiff of fresh air, the villagers walking along the sides of the road to the market, women with sacks of grass supported by their petite shoulder blades, unwaveringly steady. The small stalls at the end of roads, the naked brown children skittering through dust, dung spread loosely through roads, bullock carts, et all...

They are never in a hurry. It seems that they have all the time in the world. I can’t understand one thing - they really don’t have any private life. The neighbors, the neighbors’ neighbors and their neighbors are all part of one family. In fact, any one from that village is as dear as any other family member would be.

I remember at night, there were power cuts for hours and there was no inverter as saving grace, so we used to come out in veranda, lay the Chaarpai and lie on it. I used to get miffed by the mosquitoes' monotonous humming around my ears even as I sought cover...

But in one aspect they seem to have won the race; in terms of happiness... I think they are much more content in their simple, rustic life. They have little ambition. The satisfaction level in city people is much less.

So this would be a rough picture of the country side and if you have been to one, it would probably remind you of your own visits...