Roots and Returns

My Fb friend Braja Sorenson ,  a Krishna devotee, author and yoga enthusiast ,   who lives away from the big cities in West Bengal on the banks of a tributary of the Ganga, recently posted this photo,  which could be today's version of Go Dhuli.

Gone are the days when bullocks and buffaloes wandered around amidst the greens daily, getting their meals, possibly supervised by a dog running here and there, as they chewed the cud and snorted back at him. And then , a slow trudge back at sunset , to the home amidst the fields,  amidst the dust kicked up in their own enthusiasm .

Today , the path winds itself through a construction boom, temporary tin sheds, and a long walk back home, trying to dodge those coming in the wrong direction.


Photograph by Braja 

It was so different
in my time, girl !

We wandered and gamboled
near the house,
amidst grassy meadows,
chewing away ,
pretending to listen
to the appointed frisky dog.
And sometimes,
ventured a bit further,
to return at Godhuli,
as the departing sunrays fought with the dust.

Today, like the bipeds,
we commute
distances,
cursed by bricks, concrete,
and some trying to look smart on wheels.
Holes without grass,
ditches without water,
a daily trip
like you
in search of food.

And like you,
we return home
at eventide;
cribbing about roads,
pollution, heat and dust.

Like you we crib about traffic jams.

And like you, we create them ourselves.

We have devolved.