Sigh…

Triumph

The crowing of the roosters is wakening the village. The men and the women have started doing their morning rituals. The Kids are stirring up to the sounds of women’s sweeping the floor and sprinkling water at the front of the house. I see the women drawing Kolam (Kolam is a drawing made by the women of the household every morning. It is drawing curves and lines around the grid of uniformly spaced dots. It is believed to bring wealth, increase the beauty of the house make it look welcome). How do they manage to draw with utmost symmetry? I could hear the distant temple bells. Now the kids are wide awake except the ones that kept crying the whole night keeping their mommies awake.

What is that warm thing that I feel on my back? Oh, it’s the sun stretching its brassy rays and colouring the sky. Thanks for the tender morning hug, dear sun. There! A girl is washing the utensils from the previous day with the ash from the neem tree and another one pumping out water for bathing. What do I smell?. It’s the Crispy Ulundu vadai and sweet Ulundu Kali ( morning snack made out of ground black gram and Jaggery). A healthy morning snack.

The men and the children are returning from the Pump set in the paddy field after a refreshing morning bath. A brisk morning. After having breakfast Men and women are going to work while the kids are playing. Some naughty ones are catching beetles and bulding a house for them out of matchbox, some tying threads to the tails of dragonflies, some building sand castles, some trying to make shapes out of clay , some playing kitchen games with imaginary vessels and food, some playing hide and seek, some just watching them, jobless men lying supine with one leg over the other knee under the big old banyan tree chilling out as if they have won the whole world, some sipping tea and gossiping. Hmm..Morning routine!

And here comes the lazy afternoon. Everybody is taking a nap, and some super naughty kids are trying to steal millets and groundnut plants. Why is the sun moving so fast today? It is not even afternoon, and it’s already evening. The sun is setting down early revealing the dark sky. It is not December. Or is it? I lost track of time. What is the use of keeping track of the time?

The chill breeze is caressing me, and it slowly moves towards the village ruffling the leaves of the trees on its way like a mother ruffling her child’s hair. This breeze spreads the smell of incense and jasmine flower across the village which is a sign that the young girls are getting ready for the evening prayer in the temple. The men and the women are returning home, and they look pleased to be back. After resting for awhile they are heating the afternoon leftovers for supper.

The supper is over, and people are getting out of their houses to the streets. The evening breeze is soothing. Women starts sharing the details of their days, men just lying and counting stars, kids talking about ghosts and thieves. It’s getting late, and Kids are falling asleep on their mother’s lap. It’s time for bed. Everybody is saying goodnight to their friends.
People are going home for shelter, and the sun will rise again tomorrow, and everything will happen again.

But I won’t be here for another day to experience this. I heard that people are coming to cut and break me into pieces and sell. I am the hill, and this beautiful village has been sitting on my lap for centuries.I have lived many many full lives, and I have no regrets. I have been here for millions and millions of years and have been watching this village since its first day. I am just getting transformed into another form. But it is these people that I am worried about. Who will act as a barrier and stop the clouds and make them rain over this village? Who will cool down the hot air for them? Who will enhance the beauty of this village? I hope they they stay safe and manage well without me.