There’s scenic beauty and misery, filth and prosperity. While one travels enjoying the luxury of the cool interiors and a certain level of acceptable cleanliness, it is but a thin steel wall and a thick glass window of the train coach that separates it all from the heat, gloom, muck and sheer poverty outside the train.
THE DUAL NATURE OF INDIAN SOCIETY STARES PROFOUNDLY IN YOUR FACE !
Well this is my country - my land – my
Despite all the incongruity and disparity, the landscape seldom changes drastically. So as the rain moved I watched and valued a tapestry so unique woven with hues of Indian contrasts in colour, concocted out of a combined effort by the creator and his creations.
Stretches of farming land - surprisingly green even though it is the transition time from summer to monsoon, the kharib is yet to be planted. In spite of a scorching vengeful sun there is cool greenery through out the travel -contributed chiefly by corn crop which is in growing stage, the stalks all green and the tops of the corn sheaf – a glorious yellow and gold.
The mangroves laden with fruit – there seems to be a bumper crop this year!
Primarily there are fields and more fields
Neat fields, untidy fields, green fields, barren fields. Ploughed fields, weedy fields. Frams and more farms dot the railway tracks. A crooked banyan tree, a huge neem tree with kids swinging merrily on a jhoola made out of tyres and ropes, as they enjoy eating raw mangoes.
An almost dried out pond awaits the rains to fill it up and quench its thirsty, parched innards. Buffaloes enjoy a spa in this very pond.
An irrigation canal flows lethargically dreaming a mid summer day’s dream is rattled by kids jumping in and out of it to beat the heat – very tempting!
A constant feature of an Indian field is a hut like structure built to store dung cakes – that essential, free of cost fuel of the rural Indian housewife. The producers of this fuel enjoying a kitty party and probably putting their heads together ruminating whatever happened to all the dung they created!
The cakes are heaped in a hut shape and covered with hay and straw to protect them from thieves, rains and wind. Whereas some such huts are plastered with dung itself and on this dung are etched out intricate designs -flowers, vines, animal shapes even swastika! A manifestation of creativity of the Indian women.
A lone temple here a couple of graves there. A Samadhi flying a red flag or a pataka in memory of a deceased soul, while a Deepak on the Samadhi awaits the near and dear ones to light it up in the evening. It is very common indeed for the rural folk to have a desire to be cremated or buried in their own fields depending on their religion. All about Janam Bhoomi, Karama Bhoomi and the final resting place. Mud to mud ashes to ashes.
A comparatively new addition to the soils of the Indian farming lands are the
On various platforms that I saw cell phones stuck alike to the old and the young ears, inside a ghoonghat of a bride and inside a helmet of a two wheeler rider. The cell phone is the new great leveler of the Indian society as are the Indian railways. This gizmo has brought us together to at least one common station in life.
A pleasant observation – the smaller the stations, the cleaner they are! Green painted benches, terracotta painted pots bearing seasonal plants. A shiny brass bell outside the station master’s office and of course fewer people – probably the reason why the stations are so clean. Mofussil town women in colourful saris men in dhoties and kurtas – eating, sleeping and watching a lone TV to kill time – we are so used to reaching the station hours before the ETA. Ever seen the railway ticket carefully? There is no arrival time printed for final destination – probably a joke played by the Indian railways to enlighten you that
THERE IS NO FIXED ARRIVAL TIME !
The small winding road keeps racing with the train as it moves, coming dangerously close at times and then leaving the train to get lost into some moffussil town to enjoy a brief flirtatious prelude to a meeting again -coming back like a prodigal daughter. At times making up for abandoning the train and waiting for it to supersede it at some railway crossing.
The village wells are quaint structures, close to the tracks, some abandoned as they have dried and some still supplying water. The old walls bear motifs of mostly Hindu Gods, sacred animals, peacocks and pigeons. In addition, a reservoir for stray and domestic animals. I however wonder if these wells are only for the higher caste people and animals? Are dalits are allowed to draw water from these wells?
Most walls of the buildings that run close to the railway tracks have graffiti -rather advertisements for an interesting mix of services -Impotency, marriage bureau, hakims and vaiids and one very interesting new organization – Patni Pratadit Sanstha (Organisation for tortured husbands) !!!
The closed crossing is an interesting milieu of sorts. A tempo stuffed with humanity, people spilling out from all the orifices, and one can see all shapes and colours of the Indian back-sides! While a bus awaits impatiently, its occupants walk the road, some relieve themselves some fill them selves with aam-panna. While a little boy sells cucumbers shouting – “kheera kakdii” as he deftly peels, lemons, salts and sells them.
A newly married couple on a motorbike, refuse to get off it as she – dressed in all the glitter and bling in magenta, clings on to her newly wedded husband! A sight to behold as love oozes out of their every movement!
A bullock cart carrying a sick cow that lies very still, probably being taken to the nearest vet or the state run ’pashu-palan vibhag’. Another bullock cart pulling a heavily over loaded trolley, carrying wheat for the levy, on top of which rest two young labourers listening to a transistor that played the latest bollywood hit–
Sapno mein aayi ke jayi ke O goriya humri udayi le nindiya! Baharon mein tu hai, nazaron mein tu hai
Dekhoon jidhar tu hi ti hai, prem ki nayya hai ram ke bharose re, prem ki nayya ko paar tu lagayi de
The omnipresent paan shop displaying shiny streamers of paan-masala and tobacco pouches, swaying in the wind. The paan wala making paans dexterously wiping each paan on his dirty checkered lungi before adding all the colourful ingredients! No one complains. They are grateful for the closed crossing and the interlude it provides.
A chai shop with a varied clientele comprising of a sadhu sitting next to a young boy, both looking at the passing train with dazed vision.
Railway quarters built near small stations have certain order, certain cleanliness about them. Though there could be an odd broken chair lying in the courtyard or an old bicycle hanging from the roof, the houses are clean and often decorated with potted seasonal plants and flowers. Not to be missed out the weed that forms the natural fence of the courtyard – the besharam shrub – a ‘shameless’ weed with beautiful purple blossoms, which grows on its own and does not even demand care! Most of these houses have an inverted ‘J’ like three feet high concrete structure, which has always intrigued me, yet till date I do not know the purpose of erecting this piece of architectural marvel, all over the country on top of the railway quarters!
A sad vision is that of the railways’ abandoned cabins. Walls covered with moss, weeds growing out of it from walls and roof, plaster and paint equally chipped in different places. It carries the forlorn look of a man -an abandoned lover who does not have much to look forward to just some memories of the unrequited love.
Brick fields are another very common feature of this giant view. Kuchha bricks laid to be taken to the kiln and the giant chimneys billowing smoke fearfully resembling nuclear missiles.
Limestone painted village schools, often display proudly Gandhiji or Ambedkar statues – depending on which government paid to put up the school. There aren’t many students however, and whatever number is present, it is mostly outside the class rooms, chasing, kites, tyres, stray dogs and of course –each other.
Despite the free mid day meal and free education, few children attend school and those who do are rarely dressed completely. Such a sad sight, most children have just one proper clothing either the top or the bottom.
The most common piece of clothing worn by both small girls and boys is the ‘kuchchha’! The American boxer shorts seem to be the inspiration behind this ‘So Very Indian’ attire, so very suited for Indian weather conditions and comfort!
A tractor ploughing field has a host of cranes chasing and consuming the late worms which have been upturned in the soil by the tractor. A colourful depiction of a fraction of the food chain – green farms red tractor brown mud and white cranes –lovely!
A bulldozer or rather a JCB with a hook at the back and the claw in the front digs mud for some construction – I am not sure what is the generic name for JCB ! A crowd of about two hundred people form the neighbouring villages has collected to watch this extraordinary activity. Some entertainment for them in their otherwise dreary and drab lives.
The scare crow in the fields is a dress designer’s delight! Sporting a variety of castoffs of the field owner’s family, it is dressed in kurtas, shirts, ‘maxi’ and jeans – a perfect study for a NIFT student to observe a mix-n-match ensemble!
Its evening time a crimson sun ready to bid adieu till the next morning. The cattle return home from the fields or whatever is left of the meadows in this hot and dry season, where they went to graze kick up a mini dust storm signifying that the ‘godhuli bela’ has arrived. And the tinkle of their bells can only be ‘seen’ from my window and not heard!
Smoke begins to ooze out of the kuchha houses as women begin to prepare the dinner. Most houses are kuchha in this poor region of the country and those which are pucca are rarely cemented and plastered, probably because their owners lack the funds for the purpose.
The scare crow in the fields is a dress designer’s delight! Sporting a variety of castoffs of the farm owner’s family, it is dressed in kurtas, shirts, ‘maxi’ and jeans – a perfect case-study for a NIFT student to observe a mix-n-match ensemble!
As the train moves piercing though the darkness suddenly emerges a power house – a huge milky way of thousands of lights flashing in dark, reminiscent of a sci-fi Hollywood movie or may be a colony in Mars with innumerable UFOs, yet its all dark around it because the power house caters only to the surrounding towns!
A journey is well-traveled if –
You are not blasted off by a bomb in your coach.
If you are not blown away by a landmine on the tracks.
If you haven’t caught an infection through the food served while your travel.
If a pair of loving concerned eyes search for you at the platform !
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