It has been long time, as far as my memory is concerned, since I last logged on to this blog and now as I sit recalling what were the last three days like, some of it is definitely gonna miss.
The weekend was not a happy one as my father and my maternal grandfather, both were unwell. Most of the weekend was spent in my father's nursing during the day while my sister painstakingly took care of him at night. Saturday, I went off to see my grandfather. The good thing is that both are now doing fine.
In a bid to keep my house of the devil busy and occupied, so that no physician prescribes me Alprazolam anymore, I have now started reading while idle. So while traveling earlier, I used to ponder about the goods and the bads that have and may happen in my life, I now am conversing with the most learned men of the world through their thoughtful writings in form of one or the other book. The three and a half hours pass away in a fraction of a moment now! leaving no time at my mind's disposal to play with my hormones. I am sure going to throw in some technical and fictional material also sooner. If the habit stays, sure its gonna help a lot.
Being at my maternal village also brought about a sense of conservative living and how the resources can be best utilized. Even the traditional stove was using fallen leaves, collected over time from the trees in the compound, as a fuel. Saving wood-the principal fuel.
Walking around the place keeps most people healthy and no need of disinfectants when the floor is mud itself. That also seems to reinforce immunity in rural population by providing a constant dose of stimuli to the immune system and keeping the body's defense ready for a major assault!
Another striking thing was the sense of cleanliness and order that was ambient everywhere. From the firewood storage area to the shelves that were covered with glossy sheets from an old magazine and had many tiny containers, meticulously arranged on top of the paper sheets, in the order of frequency of use for ease of fetching them. Even though there was no sleek furniture or contoured interiors. Still everything seemed to be residing at its own designated place as if they have been there from centuries, but as clean and fresh as if someone has just placed them there. These observations are what reflect the virtue of the lady of the home. However humble be her education, she must has been taught the common sense of a homemaker by her elders during her upbringing.
The mild scent of fresh roses in the kitchen garden was intoxicating.
100% organically cultivated vegetables from the kitchen garden, free of pesticides that all of us more civilized generation are consuming everyday, are used to make some of the share of daily meals. The same also spare us from the steroid accelerated vegetable cultivation in practice in farms supplying veggies to the cities.
Someone sure has got all the time and attention for maintaining the kitchen garden and maintain those shelves apart from other chores. That be my grandmother's daughter in law.
A sense of emergency and rush that keeps on haunting us in the cities is absent in the countryside. While this brings in a sense of relief, after some time the same absence makes you feel as if you are missing on something important. As if we are living a lesser life every moment while not in that busy part of the world. That feeling was not able to set in this time as I had to leave early to see to my father at home for a CT. I left for home again with others that were there to see my grandfather.
As I mentioned that now I always have a read in my hand while traveling (and also when idle at home), my current one My experiments with truth by Mahatma Gandhi sure got some glares both while the up and down journeys. Some frowned. Some grinned. Some appreciated. Some ignored. Some went a step further and asked my reasons behind the choice. To which I replied that it is an effort to understand both the extremist (I have read Shaheed Sukhdev's Biography by his brother) and the non-violent approaches to the independence struggle. This thought had some role in convincing me to purchase Mahatma's autobiography. And if I could not make out much of the non-violence out of the book, I will have a set of real experiences of an accomplished person of the millennium to read about, something that is sure promising of interest, was my other thought.
Ending this one abruptly here!
Good Night :-)
