The fragrance of Soil...
The whizzing traffic on GT road and the blaring horn of the heavily loaded trucks make it one hectic ride. However, the green waving fields try to pacify the frantic mind. On one such rides, as I complained about the pot holes and the slow moving traffic...I decided to make the journey worth it. So what if it was not the super highway in Europe, it was apne Punjab di sadak. Just flow with the rhythm. Every field was green and criss crossing the blue sky above were electric cables. And why on earth do the birds build their nest on the electric poles when there are hundreds of other options available? The male wants the eggs to stay warm even when he has taken the female out on a date....was one explanation that I figured out. My distant vision was blocked by an overloaded trolley. Actually, it was an additional trolley attached to the tractor. The women huddled together in the centre in vibrant clothes and gold coloured parandaas, were flanked by men standing or some hanging on the sides. The rustic youth were loud in their chatter and strong in their built. The cacophony of sounds...the heavy diesel engine noise, the clattering chains of the trolley,the blaring horns, the loud speakers announcing undecipherable words....everything mingled to form a melody. The traffic slowed to snail pace as the youth standing on the roads were inviting every passerby to have langar. Standing barefoot on the tarred road under the sweltering sun amidst the rising dust and requesting strangers, with folded hands to come and have a bite...this can happen only in India. The women folk were squatting next to the huge tawa and making hundreds of rotis. In another corner, people were cleaning utensils. How strangely we cringe to preapre a couple of rotis or clean one utensil at our homes and here... The orangy yellow patkaa tied on their foreheads, their faces were shinning with beads of sweat and the devotion oozing out of their every gesture can even make a non believer pause and think. Why do they put money, time and effort in pleasing every passerby? Some questions can never be answered. My deep thoughts were immediately interrupted by a song...apna punajab hove, hathain ch sharab hove....and I smiled at the infinite experiences that lie hidden under the dust...