Day in and day out, we walk out of our homes,
With minds empty, but stress so high,
Do we know where we are headed? Where are we walking to?
Or are we just machines who don’t question the “why”?
When you start walking on a path, you do not know how things might turn out to be later in the journey. All you can possibly do is to take some precautions after talking to those who walked similar journey in the past. While you walk that path, you do things that make you feel proud, and then there are things that leave you with regrets. However, there is always a lesson to be learnt for the future adventures. The point is, there always is a journey, and there always is a destination. It is upon us to decide what turns to make and how to long to hold on. But once you start a journey, you need to end it.
There she was! Young 8-year-old girl, whose world was the green forests, sunrise to give the light and moon to take it away. Day would pass in three phases – morning milk, afternoon lunch, and a dinner having limited variety that would vary only when the seasons changed and so did the crops on her farm. Life packaged with three other girls, living in the neighbourhood, a shrewd uncle with sons who shall later on carry on the legacy and her dear cows. Her grandmother lived it, her mother lived it and so shall she live it, as this was thought. Who knew she would play with her fate and reach into a city which would carry her in auto-rickshaws, where fruits came for money, where dal-chawal would come in so many variations, even without having the planets to change their orbital locations to change the crop seasons. The 8-year-old learnt how to cook, how to walk kilometers up and down in the mountains without carrying a water bottle around the neck and how to take out milk out of cow, cream out of milk and the ghee out of cream. It was the 3300 meters high land in the mountains that taught her how to live on ground. Forests were her schools and friends were the teachers. Continue reading