Meanderings...

There’s something about the bright green of paddy fields that arouses the village girl in me. That part is usually buried deep inside since I have not really grown up in a village but I did spend enough time in my grandmother’s village when I was tiny and perhaps one’s earliest impressions dig out channels in one’s mind that stay in place when we think we have forgotten them. These channels then well up with hazy memories and strong emotions when we encounter certain triggers. The fields somehow trigger in me the love for the land of my birth. The green is enchanting without being overpowering. The paddy sways gracefully and waves form in the light evening breeze as I walk on the mud pathway built to traverse the fields. The scent from the paddy lush with burgeoning light green grains is intoxicating – a promise of future abundance, a comforting aroma that makes you feel warm inside, a fragrance of openness.

I walk unhurriedly. No one else in the village cares to dawdle in the fields. Even here people have places to go and things to do. I, on the other hand, simply love to look about me. Mahi comes along of course. She loves these evening walks as much as I do. Appu said he’d rather stay on the couch than walk the fields again. S had to be elsewhere but he admonished us to get home before dark and to not dream but watch out for snakes. We both grin back mischievously and make our escape. 

The green is so bright, we feel refreshed immediately. There is stagnant water in the fields from the rain and an abundance of insects and tiny little fish. Frogs hide in the water and croak away with just their bulbous eyes visible and only if you look really carefully. In the distance, I see white and grey storks walking about gracefully and feeding. The sun is just pondering on whether he must begin to set or not. There are no glorious orange and peach tinted sunsets here – usually the sun decides and he is off immediately. So we hurry a little and walk. The path winds a bit and some parts are so overgrown with grass that it is nearly impossible to walk in comfort but we squeeze ourselves through the clear portions and walk happily anyway.

Mahi enjoys the sights and keeps calling out to show me some new little aspect that she fears I may have missed. She is reluctant to walk back home and wants to stay. I cajole her and promise to let her stop at the ‘kolam’ or tank on our way back. The kolam is an old and badly-maintained tank with algae growing everywhere but its setting is scenic and there is a section where the water is clear and untouched. We head down the steps. I go in first and wash my feet rubbing my heels on the worn rock steps and suddenly spy a little snake. There it was, with its head poking out of the water and resting at the edge of a step. It was small and delicate with brown and black skin. I stepped out carefully and motioned to Mahi to head back up. She protested vociferously till I showed her the snake after which she screamed and ran for the house at top speed. I laughed and followed her slowly. She was still a little shaken by the time I caught up with her at the temple gates where she stood looking down the path anxiously.

She soon recovers however and we reach home tired and happy after our meanderings. She smiles at me when we get back and asks “Can we do this again tomorrow?” – I think the land weaves its magic around her too and I am glad…