The new day is born. The birds are awake and have begun their daily rituals; the soil is blissfully embracing the warmth of the sun while the streams gradually turned colder. The magnificent structure at the center kissed the skies with its roof. The lime yellow sun was reflecting all over this beautiful house. The brown tiled roof spread widely, the roof held itself high with all pride and royalty. The house was worn with age but still had the demeanor of a once acclaimed past. The white color of the wall was degraded with stains and brown dusty patches. The pillars which were plenty in number were all made of wood and seemed to have memories of the many generations of people touching, hugging and leaning over it, they were broad, round and healthy looking. The house had only two colors, two rich colors, brown of wood and white of the wall coat. It was wood everywhere. Deforestation, yes, but the beauty of the house shuts ones mouth.
I have always loved such houses. The huge houses which were built by wealthy people of the olden days using wealthy materials, that held on for generations and centuries together. Those houses had a character of their own, as if they withheld wisdom from their existence that dated back centuries. The period of their existence is long, the era of their life. I can’t even imagine what kind of a world it must have been when the first brick was laid by some young laborer to build the house for his master. The history texts indicate that it was a pleasant world only for the wealthy ones, so that means the ancient period had this one thing in common with the now. The period of its life that interests me is when the generation that happened to live in only had the house, the prestigious family name and lots of poverty. Yeah, the very same theme that most of the cinemas portrayed. After all, the movies, books and photographs are the resources through which I know such houses.
From the very little knowledge that I have of such houses and the people and their lives in it, I have developed this bizarre feeling, a sort of regret for having missed out being a part of it. It might have been nice to live in that period, in those houses, inevitably poor, helpless and systematic. Well, maybe not nice, maybe gruesome but that would have been an incredible experience.
There would be a lot of people, family in the house. Eating, sleeping and living together under the same roof. Of course, quarrels would be there and family politics. Male chauvinism would be at its peak. Children wouldn’t be cuddled and cared for that often, and they would grow up smarter and tougher, self made and truly innocent. Ones daily chores were given most importance and there was a rule in the household and it applied to all. Privacy was absent unless one found a secret spot for oneself. One was closer to nature as the surroundings were free for trees to grow. People were bothered by nature’s games as they all depended on nature for their livelihood. Farming was the occupation and soil was part of family. There was no TV and there was time and space to spare for life, for games, for conversations, for laughter, for quarrels, for nature, for rain, for cattle. People had to read to know about world, and their minds worked sharper and their power for imagination was commendable. News travelled around by mouth and people were innocent enough to speak forever about others. Boys defined freedom while girls always had envy powering them. Grandparents dominated and children worked while grand children were free to live yet eager to seek adulthood. Life was to be lived by a simple rule of waking up with the sun and retreating as the same went down, but all the individual lives had their own individual miseries, notions and vengeance to the world, which were mostly hidden within oneself and if otherwise the one was considered a rebel. Life was free from the invasion of technology and there was compassion between humans and earth.
What kind of a person would I have grown to be in that world? It would be a nice thing to know, with the influence of everything but technology I would have been the one I was supposed to be. As today I am somebody who has been made by internet, movies, cell phones, speed cars, Television, air conditioners and so on and so forth. I prefer the other world, but I am forced to choose this world, and to some extent I am willing to fall prey to it. I have had the taste of the techno world and once that happens one is disqualified for the purer world. I feel sorry for myself and that wish still remains in me, though in vain.
Past is past. I now realize the depth of that phrase, the loss that it signifies.
