Saturday, August 9, 2008

The Wanderer

Basking in the evening sun ‘pativullathaanu’. So we old and new alike get together, scatter ourselves to places that give us an additional comfort of scratching too while gossiping about the days happenings. The best loved places which meets the above said requirements is the edge of the road dividers (the tar on which we lie does give us some discomfort). There we lie the masters of all that we survey – dreaming, passing quick glances at everything around us. It is a meeting ground for all. The good old grands, teenagers, lovers and the kids.

The disturbance to this evening chitchat is offered by the homosapiens with their loud horns and the smoke they eject. The horn wallas may be non Gujjus – still not aware of our power in this place. The reverence with which they should consider us would be revealed to them after sometime. They have no mutual respect. Do they hear us mooing and bellowing to them to move out of our way. Would all this horning business have come to existence if our men would pull their enclosed carts. Our mens engine makes no noise save the clapping of hooves on road & the bell tied around their necks.

The penetrating horns have taken me away from my dreams to reality. Do they realize that our men folk are unemployed and frustrated to such an extent that the women folk have to pay the price for it by fruitbearing at all possible intervals. Poor beings. Now that those huge machines have come on the farms and the roads our men are left with nothing to do in this land where we women enjoy the powers. All I can thank God for is that our males are not born in some of the southern states where they would have to put to use as mouth flavouring dishes.

My thoughts move to my kids. Will the many kids I bring up to this so called earth be safe & secure in the years that would come. I don’t want them to feed on those many cardboards & plastics & dirty water which I feed on from the streets. I who once was so used to eating good straw & many other mouth savouring dishes am now reduced to this pitiable state.

I don’t think I should burden myself with so many worries. I am stuck between two times. My young ones would be subjected to the present time & more future times which would get only a little more worse – so they wouldn’t realize what they are missing out (those green pastures, daily dips in the ponds,….). How long will my kids live? With this diet will they able to produce healthy kids and deliver good creamy milk. My heart aches to think of changed times but I think I should be leaving them to their destinies and not worry so much. Oh these thoughts have drifted me from present.

I remember, I am by the roadside and my kids are besides me learning from me. Trying to imitate my ways – sitting posture, walking and maybe they are capable of reading my mind. I should think positive & deliver them good principle lest they stray from good twing.

The sun is about to set, the sun would go below the horizon. Get up lazybones. Where are you, in a dreamworld as always huh. (We din’t hear any gossips from your part today about the morning happening – you are thinking too much nowadays. If this goes on for long, you will be cast away from our rocking company – friends talk – As if I care.

The sun setting is alarm for us to tell us that homeward journey time is up. I have recently given birth to two so its difficult for me to get up with heavy laden breasts – fully laden for my master & young ones waiting at home. While on the slow stride homewards (thankfully I have a home to return to after all the wandering). I pass through galleys & societies where my devotees stay. Just as easy money is loved by money, this easy food has become habitual for me – I stand outside the gate & knock on the gate (how can they keep me waiting like this – still patience is a virtue – when plastic & paper are the only things within the huge belly). The usual chappatis, and othertimes as always I become a waste bin for unwanted stuffs in their home. Rotten vegetables the smell of which I can’t bear. I don’t turn my face at anything anytime lest they think that I am too proud & not keep my share the next day. The neighbours see their actions and follow suit.. all in the name of religion I also become a benefactor (but only I know that some take me for their moving dustbin).

The routine homeward journey has begun. I don’t leave any chance of getting tit bits from here & there. The freedom I enjoy is undisputable. In the distance I can see my home. Is my master angry? Have my thoughts strayed me more than my allotted time. Is my baby hungry?

No he is not angry. A bail in his hand and my baby tied lest ir rushes to me and gets hold of the larger portion of what my breasts can feed it. I stand quite whilst I enjoy my master milking me with those humanely gentle hands. Again I have a wish, that he wouldn’t turn to that milking equipment that he experimented on me, some months before. I like the feel of his hands on my breasts because it gives me the satisfaction that I am useful to them in ways more then one.

What if all those technologies they are experimenting onus comes into being. Better productivity, better food, environment etc as it would be. But what does it mean to me & my family & friends. Loss of freedom to wander as freely as the clouds, constraints to thoughts, dreams etc. a cliché twing as many others. A shed where many of us would be tied up with timely food & washing. A fixed area allotted to everyone. A space for all. No roaming, no evening walks. Stand all day long seeing the same view all day long (the view directly in front of us). All the spice to life would be over. The immediate neighbour would be so tired of all this that we won’t have chitchats even.

Today I don’t make any noise & moo because I am happy as a wandering soul – then I won’t moo because there would be no meaning for my existence save provide milk & dung.

A pat on my back wakes me (to be exact – Shubhani didi’s call)

My mind keeps wandering. I have been awakened again from my dreams, milking is done, my master is happy with the full pail I would provide him. My baby is untied. He comes running. Hmm. I am enjoying the feel of its mouth on my breasts. It gives me the happiness only a mother can feel. A feeling of living for a purpose. I let my mind stop wandering as my young one sucks away all that I have to provide

1 comment:

Duffer said...

:)...found yaaa.... u got mine thrgh Anu rite???
and she found me coz of my stupidness,i put a comment in her blog nt ewalizing that clicking on the user would point to me .... :)..So here i am followin the same path ..

Well written but i wld have prefered the orginal more ..