gramaulaa/driving along a village road

It is strange how things hit you hard on the head and bring you back to terrafirma..We just went to worship at Nattamangalam , a village which really used to be like the back of beyond some years ago. we have been going there for the past 30 years every year sometimes once, twice or even thrice.. The small temple to our family goddess or kula deivam is there.From there we go to Mallasamudram, a bigger village where my husband grew up.and went to school till his 11th class.

What has always held my  fascination  has been the innocence and simplicity of the village folk. This time, I seem to have been enchanted with a lot more things which have obviously eluded my attention all these years. I could attribute it to my growing years or my better sense of observation honed and sharpened over the years with experience.

I immediately decided to write a blog on this because i felt that it might provide some useful insights to the younger generation most of which is city-bred., the first thing that i remember is the road which is lined on both sides with tamarind trees, most of which must be at least 80 to 100 years old. The  green foliage and branches of these trees form a lovely arch overhead and a cool green canopy. . It must have rained just a week ago and the green shoots were a tender light green .Else they would have been scorched by the unrelenting and punishing sunshine of the southern summer in May. We had travelled a long distance on the super highway and all we saw were a few carsm trucks and buses. There were no trees or shrubs at all except for the newly planted arali bushes in the median that separates the to and fro traffic. ,Although its fun to speed along the wonderful new toll roads, I still miss the treelined avenue type roads. The village roads have potholes and are insome places dusty and the ride bumpy ..but thats the fun..no racing or crashing! see the point?The other splendid sight is that of young village belles happily riding their bicycles or going doubles with their husbands or friends or brother. Its lovely to see the girl sit on the cross bar holding on to the handlebar and the boy peddling the cycle with her weight too. Perhaps thats his incentive or just romantic. I find it so simply romantic and chivalrous.!!There is one sight that we rarely see nowadays. ..the fire wood shop. I wonder who still uses firewood as fuel.in these days of gas and induction stoves.. Even my maid wouldn't deign to use kerosene stove or worse still firewood or coal. The answer was soon got..the brick kilns have plenty of use for jungle wood and that too rough hewn and in big chunks,,The small paan shops,the grocery stores, cycle repair stalls, cycle rental stands and  small tea shops are what make a village so delectable, delightful and delicious. The aroma of the morning coffe/tea wafts from a nearby stall as we stop to buy some flowers for the temple. The flower stall has its own colour and perfume but the best part is their smiling face and  hearty greeting ..We pass through green fields waiting to be harvested, ripe and luscious rice plants heavy with the grain and almost buckling under the weight, We also catch a glimpse of the fields being mechanically harvested with modern farm equipment and some that are lain bare after harvest, conical sheaths of corn , maize and sugarcane heaped up like a red indians wigwam..As we sped along I also noticed the village templesand the fervour and devotion with which people went topray there. The colourful and resplendent statues of the village watch Gods called Ayyanar did not escape my eyes.They are said to guard the village from evil and are mostly placed at the far end of the village..the boundary to be more precise. Thesight of the innocent village boysplaying with the wornout cycle wheel is a source of endless joy for me. I can go on and on about the charm of villages and its simple people and how we seldom care to give any of these sights a thought. Let us learn totake in the beauty of the cows grazing lazily, the sgeep bleating, the goats and the chicks crazily crossing the road just as a vehicle is about to pass, the cowherd with his minion and the rustic scene as it unfolds before you as we drive by. The cool fresh air is meant ot be taken in , the smells to be sniffed in and the sights seen and etched in our minds so that we remember to keep our cities as clean and pretty as our villages.....