My Nation - India

[Pupil]

The Village


Visiting a tiny undeveloped village is unbearably soothing to our senses. We may be attached to our airconditioned comforts, soft velvety sofa and unending television programs, but when we visit a village where there is hardly any lights, souring temperature, no city-like facilities and fresh sweet smell of buffallo dung, we just feel like being there forever. Nothing goes waste in a village.

The houses that are built, may perhaps look gothic but the silence, serenity and coolness, is irresistible. The doors are relatively thicker, heavier, with some pointed iron rods inserted into it for protection. They usually have a long swing, that is slightly bent from the middle, next to the entrance where a few oldies in white clad, wearing larger-than-face 'Paghdi' - a long narrow clothed that is rolled over the head - sit and gossip about subjects that is difficult to comprehend for a city-person.

The outside temperature may be at melting point but the inside of their house is remarkably cool. The squared-shaped rocks embedded over the 'veranda' are significantly cooler than the outside temperature. We may get disgusted to be in a crowded bus or a train in cities, but in villages, the autorikshaw are crowded: two sitting next to the driver, three keeping their foot inside the autorickshaw with their whole body dangerously out in the open. But its fun. The traffic rules in villages are that they are no traffic rules.

There are large shed with creamish coloured dry grasses laid on top of the shed supported by four delicate-looking strong rugged wooden pole. And there stands a dormant-looking, white-coloured cow with intimitating large curvy horns, incessantly chewing what she ate the whole day and collared with beautifully embroidered belt with a large bell. Next to her, far from her reach is placed a large stack of finely roped grasses. Remarkably, the dung she excretes are carefully preserved for later use in manure for healthy fertilization. The smell of the dung is surprisingly not disgusting at all; on the contrary they seem to have a cooling effect on the environment.

The utensils that they use in their kitchen and on a daily basis too capture our imagination. They shall have a large brownish-coloured, clay-pot where the water is preserved for drinking purpose. These clay-pot usually do not have a tap, like we expect. They use a long heavy steel handle with a cup on the end to take the water out of the clay-pot. The cup may look smaller but the quantity of water it collects is astonishing. We will hardly find a tea/tablespoon for eating purpose because they only use hands. They normally eat dal, rice, chutney, chapaati, whole onion and green chilli.

As night falls, the night animals prowl the dark, silent sky with abundant stars, which normaly are not visible in the city due to our self-created pollution. These night animals are bats. They are black, fast, stealth and nasty. They sometimes hover over the ground surprisingly close to people's heads. And the villagers are just too busy with their own life even to be bothered by these bats. Creepy crawly Insects. Insects in villages are more scary than fascinating. They are relatively large, with long creepy legs and a tight button-belly and it comes in varied colours. Villagers are pretty knowledgeable which insects are harmful and which are not. Insects that look frightening are relatively harmless according to villagers. The farmers may perhaps have no formal agricultural education per se, but they have a remarkable insight and understanding of the fertilization process and the nature and characteristics of plant, tree and animal life.

Village life, can't live with, can't live without.