What next?
Colourful rangoli's adorned nearly every house front,at the street along with words wishing every one , passerby's included a 'Very Happy New Year -2013'.
The black topped road was covered with a sheet of whitish green dust of dried neem leaves shed by overhanging trees, shredded and powdered thus by passing vehicles , old and worn out leaves let loose by the tree in anticipation of fresh green cover that would facilitate its regeneration by bursting forth its tiny but highly aromatic white flowers in the coming spring which would be gathered by eager hands to garnish 'manga pachidi '- ,the most important and very significant sweet, sour,.hot and bitter dish made from unripe mango's,a dash of jaggery and a thin wedge of green chillies that signifies the various shades of life in the celebrations of the Tamil New Year in coming , April.
The early morning mist cleared as the sun ascended the skies and winked with blinding brilliance through a patch of low lying purple clouds, igniting the bougainvilleas flowers that were blooming in countless bunches in untamed roguishness over a compound wall , into a fiery magenta , adding alluring crest to the thick foliage, rippling in gentle waves ,over the street.
A man materialised out of the fast fading mist with a hand held pail sloshing with milk.Some residents of this metro still prefer fresh milk over pasteurised ones.
This setting reminded me of a similar scene i was witness to and has very mysteriously retained its freshness in my memory though it is several years old ,that of in a rural street whilst we were waiting for the temple that comes under divya desam circuit at Kumbhakonam ,to open for the evening.That of a man walking leisurely down the canopied road with a pail of milk in his hands stopping at the gates of the houses lining one of its sides , to deliver the milk.Only, that he was old and weather beaten and quite indistinguishable , a mere silhouette ,in the mild rays of the evening sun filtering through.
This man was brisk and young and had a fresh faced boy in tow.
I have seen him in earlier years carrying his trade first on bicycle and then on a dusty moped and today it was on a spanking new motor cycle .It was parked on the road side gleaming and bearing a few more pails, fastened on to its sides .
It made me wonder ,what next would his mode of travel be?
The black topped road was covered with a sheet of whitish green dust of dried neem leaves shed by overhanging trees, shredded and powdered thus by passing vehicles , old and worn out leaves let loose by the tree in anticipation of fresh green cover that would facilitate its regeneration by bursting forth its tiny but highly aromatic white flowers in the coming spring which would be gathered by eager hands to garnish 'manga pachidi '- ,the most important and very significant sweet, sour,.hot and bitter dish made from unripe mango's,a dash of jaggery and a thin wedge of green chillies that signifies the various shades of life in the celebrations of the Tamil New Year in coming , April.
The early morning mist cleared as the sun ascended the skies and winked with blinding brilliance through a patch of low lying purple clouds, igniting the bougainvilleas flowers that were blooming in countless bunches in untamed roguishness over a compound wall , into a fiery magenta , adding alluring crest to the thick foliage, rippling in gentle waves ,over the street.
A man materialised out of the fast fading mist with a hand held pail sloshing with milk.Some residents of this metro still prefer fresh milk over pasteurised ones.
This setting reminded me of a similar scene i was witness to and has very mysteriously retained its freshness in my memory though it is several years old ,that of in a rural street whilst we were waiting for the temple that comes under divya desam circuit at Kumbhakonam ,to open for the evening.That of a man walking leisurely down the canopied road with a pail of milk in his hands stopping at the gates of the houses lining one of its sides , to deliver the milk.Only, that he was old and weather beaten and quite indistinguishable , a mere silhouette ,in the mild rays of the evening sun filtering through.
This man was brisk and young and had a fresh faced boy in tow.
I have seen him in earlier years carrying his trade first on bicycle and then on a dusty moped and today it was on a spanking new motor cycle .It was parked on the road side gleaming and bearing a few more pails, fastened on to its sides .
It made me wonder ,what next would his mode of travel be?
posted by K.C. Sujata at
4:23 AM
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