The little girl sprang up as soon as her mother called. She had been awake since a long time. Today was the most special day of her life. All her life it seemed to her, she had waited for this day. Today she was going with her father to the town for the first time in her life. Her whole life, since she had been a baby, she had waited to go with her dad on his bi annual visit to the town. "When you are ten years old, sweetheart," her mother promised each time she pleaded with her. "You have to be able to carry your provisions, and help your pitaji with Vishnu, the horse."
As soon as she was ready, clad in her one new salwaar kameez, thick shawl thrown around her shoulders, she raced out of her home, the little cottage that nestled high in the Himalayas. "Hut, hut !" she commanded the bewildered goats that milled around her, demanding their feed. Brushing them aside, she raced ahead, then tore back and stopped, facing the rising sun, arms folded, head bowed. Hurriedly mumbling the Gayatri mantra, she flew back towards her dad, as he stood waiting, holding the reins of the impatient horse. Putting her leg lithely on her fathers' outstretched palm, she swung herself onto the horses' back. Clutching the bundles of wool, her father handed her, they started the journey. The narrow mountainous paths were treacherous, winding and going downhill, there progress was slow. Eyes shining with excitement, her strong young body, thrilling to the horses clip clop, she was oblivious to everything, even the glorious vistas that lay before her. The mountains retreated in the distance as the valley drew close. "Pitaji ?" she asked hesitantly, "My cousins, do they go to a big, big school sitting in Tayaji's car ? Can i go see it , while you finish your work ?" The father smiled indulgently, "Yes beta, i will take you to their home first. I should finish my work by sunset, and then we can go home. "
As they entered the town, the path grew crowded. One after another, cars whizzed by. Both Indu, for that was her name, and her father, kept a firm hold on the horse. Soon they reached her uncle's home. Her father's eldest brother, he had left the mountains as a youth and had made his home in the valley, trading in the wool that his brother supplied to him. After his marriage to a local merchant's daughter, he had prospered greatly. No amount of convincing, however, induced his brother to leave the mountains.
Built of red brick and mortar, with sloping roofs that shone in the mid day sun, the house itself was imposing. "Namaste, taayaji taayi, " she shyly greeted her uncle and aunt, bending to touch their feet, the mark of respect accorded to all elders. "Namaste beti. Jeeti raho." was the aunts' half hearted response, even as her uncle gathered her up in a bear hug and swung her around. Exclaiming about how pretty, she looked, he called for the servants' to get the guests some lunch.
Soon enough his two children, a daughter and son were also summoned. Surly at first, they warmed to their 'country cousin' as they showed her around their home and rooms, pleased with her cries of delight as she admired their clothes and their jewellery, their toys and books. A drive in the car was next, as they took her to the fair with its rides and shows, the likes of which she had never seen in her whole life. Soon enough it was evening, and time to leave. Ashamed to climb aboard the horse, she asked her father, if she could walk for some distance. He agreed and she said her goodbyes, wiping the small tear, that somehow escaped from the corner of her eyes.
Back home, her parents noticed a marked change in her, Gone was the enthusiastic, easy to please little girl, whose laughter had everyone smiling. She tried, for the sake of her parents, to be happy, to smile and laugh at their efforts to please her, but eventually she retreated to her room and sat there, lost in thought. "Life is so unjust ! Why couldn't we have also lived in the town ? " The thought plagued her, incessantly. "I'm going to marry in the town and live there forever."
"Indu, come out ! See who's coming !" Her mum's voice had her racing out of the small attic, she called her room. There was the shiny red car, climbing up the mountain path, scattering the petrified goats and sheep, chased by a multitude of small, breathless kids running alongside. The small lamb, that had been grazing by the roadside had been separated from its mother. Reaching down from the slowly moving car, her cousin grabbed it by its legs, and dangling it upside down, laughed excitedly, as it bleated pitifully. In a flash Indu, reached the car. Grabbing the lamb from his hands, she cuddled it in her arms, containing her anger somehow. Restoring it to its anxious mother, she then stood as her parents welcomed them in to her home. She could see them exchanging looks as they stared at the simple, rustic interiors. What shocked her most was that all they said by way of greeting was a "Hi, uncle, aunty."
Offered a tall glass of buttermilk, they declined opting to have coke instead. Indu, eager to show them her surroundings, offered to take them to the small lake, a short distance away, where the fish leapt out to eat the pieces of bread that were dropped to them as feed. Going downhill, she was delighted to hear them shout and frolic. The lake was calm and serene. Her cousins boisterousness, however frightened the fishes, so that none of them emerged. Bored, much to Indu's horror, they started to throw stones into the pool. Enraged the local fisherman chased them away. "We're too tired to climb up there now, Indu. Why don't you send the car down ? " As she climbed up, she looked back to see them sitting on the ground, throwing empty packets of chips and bubblegum wrappers from their pockets. Sighing she carried on climbing, "I'll have to come later and pick it all up. What if Hari, the bull eats it ?"
The next day, her mother arose to see her little daughter standing on the slopes outside, doing the surya namaskaar. Her sweet voice, singing the Gayatri mantra rang out, thrilling her parents, "Ah! That 's our little girl. Back to her normal self. Thanks be to Hanumanji. Jai Ho."
As soon as she was ready, clad in her one new salwaar kameez, thick shawl thrown around her shoulders, she raced out of her home, the little cottage that nestled high in the Himalayas. "Hut, hut !" she commanded the bewildered goats that milled around her, demanding their feed. Brushing them aside, she raced ahead, then tore back and stopped, facing the rising sun, arms folded, head bowed. Hurriedly mumbling the Gayatri mantra, she flew back towards her dad, as he stood waiting, holding the reins of the impatient horse. Putting her leg lithely on her fathers' outstretched palm, she swung herself onto the horses' back. Clutching the bundles of wool, her father handed her, they started the journey. The narrow mountainous paths were treacherous, winding and going downhill, there progress was slow. Eyes shining with excitement, her strong young body, thrilling to the horses clip clop, she was oblivious to everything, even the glorious vistas that lay before her. The mountains retreated in the distance as the valley drew close. "Pitaji ?" she asked hesitantly, "My cousins, do they go to a big, big school sitting in Tayaji's car ? Can i go see it , while you finish your work ?" The father smiled indulgently, "Yes beta, i will take you to their home first. I should finish my work by sunset, and then we can go home. "
As they entered the town, the path grew crowded. One after another, cars whizzed by. Both Indu, for that was her name, and her father, kept a firm hold on the horse. Soon they reached her uncle's home. Her father's eldest brother, he had left the mountains as a youth and had made his home in the valley, trading in the wool that his brother supplied to him. After his marriage to a local merchant's daughter, he had prospered greatly. No amount of convincing, however, induced his brother to leave the mountains.
Built of red brick and mortar, with sloping roofs that shone in the mid day sun, the house itself was imposing. "Namaste, taayaji taayi, " she shyly greeted her uncle and aunt, bending to touch their feet, the mark of respect accorded to all elders. "Namaste beti. Jeeti raho." was the aunts' half hearted response, even as her uncle gathered her up in a bear hug and swung her around. Exclaiming about how pretty, she looked, he called for the servants' to get the guests some lunch.
Soon enough his two children, a daughter and son were also summoned. Surly at first, they warmed to their 'country cousin' as they showed her around their home and rooms, pleased with her cries of delight as she admired their clothes and their jewellery, their toys and books. A drive in the car was next, as they took her to the fair with its rides and shows, the likes of which she had never seen in her whole life. Soon enough it was evening, and time to leave. Ashamed to climb aboard the horse, she asked her father, if she could walk for some distance. He agreed and she said her goodbyes, wiping the small tear, that somehow escaped from the corner of her eyes.
Back home, her parents noticed a marked change in her, Gone was the enthusiastic, easy to please little girl, whose laughter had everyone smiling. She tried, for the sake of her parents, to be happy, to smile and laugh at their efforts to please her, but eventually she retreated to her room and sat there, lost in thought. "Life is so unjust ! Why couldn't we have also lived in the town ? " The thought plagued her, incessantly. "I'm going to marry in the town and live there forever."
"Indu, come out ! See who's coming !" Her mum's voice had her racing out of the small attic, she called her room. There was the shiny red car, climbing up the mountain path, scattering the petrified goats and sheep, chased by a multitude of small, breathless kids running alongside. The small lamb, that had been grazing by the roadside had been separated from its mother. Reaching down from the slowly moving car, her cousin grabbed it by its legs, and dangling it upside down, laughed excitedly, as it bleated pitifully. In a flash Indu, reached the car. Grabbing the lamb from his hands, she cuddled it in her arms, containing her anger somehow. Restoring it to its anxious mother, she then stood as her parents welcomed them in to her home. She could see them exchanging looks as they stared at the simple, rustic interiors. What shocked her most was that all they said by way of greeting was a "Hi, uncle, aunty."
Offered a tall glass of buttermilk, they declined opting to have coke instead. Indu, eager to show them her surroundings, offered to take them to the small lake, a short distance away, where the fish leapt out to eat the pieces of bread that were dropped to them as feed. Going downhill, she was delighted to hear them shout and frolic. The lake was calm and serene. Her cousins boisterousness, however frightened the fishes, so that none of them emerged. Bored, much to Indu's horror, they started to throw stones into the pool. Enraged the local fisherman chased them away. "We're too tired to climb up there now, Indu. Why don't you send the car down ? " As she climbed up, she looked back to see them sitting on the ground, throwing empty packets of chips and bubblegum wrappers from their pockets. Sighing she carried on climbing, "I'll have to come later and pick it all up. What if Hari, the bull eats it ?"
The next day, her mother arose to see her little daughter standing on the slopes outside, doing the surya namaskaar. Her sweet voice, singing the Gayatri mantra rang out, thrilling her parents, "Ah! That 's our little girl. Back to her normal self. Thanks be to Hanumanji. Jai Ho."
real apt..the difference in attitude amongst people from villages and towns/cities..the grass is not always greener on the other side..
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