Tuesday, August 17, 2010

rewinding

Its one of those days when you are out of sorts, the day after the journey. When one comes back and the rush of experiences of the holiday are vivid, the people and there lives still leaving an impact and one looks desperately for novelty in the daily life and finds none.

that is the beauty of getting out and seeing some of the world. In minutes it shows you the vastness of the world, and the endless ways to live life. Takes a while to limp back to injecting back the pulse of stress, and tension into the veins of the city life.

Take the case of some of the simple people i met in Cochin on day one. 

The kiteseller. I dont know his name, or even if he was the person making the kites. But i watched him sit still as he observed the world go by, patiently letting his wares flutter in the breeze. As i took this snap all he told me was that these kites were ordinary, I would find nicer ones along the road to photograph. There was no sense of urgency, a desire to sell me the kite or cajole from me anything. He knew he was allright, kite sale nothwitstanding. 
Lijjat aunty. She sat in the sun, her tools next to her, the dough whiteneing her hands as she rolled hundrends of these papaddams in a line. Each of them started as a tiny ball, was coaxed into shaped, powdered, stacked, re-rolled and then painstakingly seperated. In the middle of all this, she made coffee for her beedi smoking husband, sweetly spoke to the cat and was not in the least upset by strange women and her invasion. 

The man that impressed me the most was this one. The necklace maker. Have never seen a person so absorbed and intent on his task. A bhuddist monk would have been ashamed at the serenity of his task. Saw him on 2 seperate days, on the same seat, same needle and thread, different flowers same task. Each flower was to be tied into a delicate knot to weave a garland. For someones hair, god. car... who knew. But the depth of meaning he attached to it made me envious. 

As the last open lake lapped against the hull of my house boat. ..............  I wondered if peace and serenity of ones surroundings, makes the mind peaceful, or does one get used to the same. Knew there was no simple generic answer to this one, each person made his heaven or carved his hell irrespective of life. 

But however trivial it may seem, think the environment has a role. Kerala is green, gentle, laid back and peaceful. Delicateness, Greenness thrives as does laziness. As we crossed the border into Tamil Nadu, so thing subtle changed
The swaying greenery was replaced  by barren stretches of nothingness.. a certain indifference or detachment to the surroundings seemed to seep in. It was clear that people simply lived here, the sense of belonging was strangely missing....