PS 2

Hello all!

Sorry for keeping my page dormant for this long, but I did not feel like I saw or read or came across something which influenced or triggered me enough to write about it.

And then came Ponniyin Selvan 2 which absolutely made me feel like I should do something about it. Before you read, if have neither watched the movie nor read the book, lot of spoiler alerts ahead, sorry for that!

As someone who absolutely adores to read, I try my level best not to watch adaptations of books because I have been nothing but disappointed in them. I can understand that it is not practical to include everything said in the book in a movie because of its fixed and limited time frame. Moreover, movies do tend to limit your imagination as there’s not much left to perceive or sometimes interpret by ourselves.

Still, movie adaptations are good as not everyone has access to the books and reading may or may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

But, as someone living away from her country, as a measure to stick to my culture, the desperate yearning to hear someone talk in your mother tongue and the opportunity to meet my friends prompted me to go to the movie despite my extreme unwillingness to watch the first part even online.

Yet, upon listening to people say it was the best way for people who haven’t read the story to discover one of the timeless classics of Tamil literature, so I felt I shouldn’t be prejudiced and try to give the movie a chance ( as prejudiced and judgmental as I did feel, but chose not to reveal) I proceeded to travel 2+ hours just to reach the city where they screened the movie (First regret)

I had never been okay with the casting choice, and I don’t wish to go into the details.

But, even as someone who has read the whole series for 7-8 times, even I had problems understanding who was who and what exactly were they doing in the story. I can absolutely fathom the changes made to the subplot of who Madhurandhagan is, but how does Ponniyin Selvan actually justify a traitor who went over to the other side? The former is supposed to be controlled by people around him because he is quite unsure of his own worth from time to time. Then he becomes extremely ambitious and resorts to deception and treachery.

I could accept even that, that might have been a complex subplot to add ( for which they might have had time if they had avoided the unnecessary war scene with the Rashtrakutas, just saying), but what about Nandini? It’s her need to avenge herself and her mother which forms the basis of the story. Without her, the plot goes nowhere. She is the axis of the story. She only feels like murdering her past lover for leaving her and killing a man??? Where was the passion which Nandini had in the books? And she leaves without even asking for her husband’s pardon? Isn’t that one of the most heart rendering scenes in the book?

Why use actors like Prakash Raj for such short scenes in the screen? What was Oomai Rani doing but some acrobatics? What happened to Sentha Amuthan and Samuthra Kumari? Did the lovebirds Vanthiyathevan and Kunthavai get married?

My dear Mr. Mani Ratnam, I know it was your dream project and it took a lot of efforts to bring five volumes of the book on screen. It’s based on the book and not an exact adaptation, I get that too. Why did you have to pick out random scenes from the book and insert them in random places in the movie then? But in your futile attempt to make Ponniyin Selvan seem like the big hero he is, why make a fool of all the other characters? If you wanted to make them appear so worthy of worship, why didn’t you provide any of them with an awesome entrance as provided in the books? Why is there no justification of Madurandhagan actually being skilled in politics which actually justifies the end?

Just questions.

The only thing which I felt was okay with the movie was casting Chiyaan Vikram as Karikalan, he really brought his character and his slow descent into madness to life.

Looking forward to better movies in the future, because come on , we deserve better!!!!

Till we meet again,

A Random Indian Girl who is missing India a lot

Little things!

Hey all! Hope everyone has a better new year than expected. Sorry I haven’t been writing for a long time, I wanted to gather myself enough to have the strength to look back with nostalgia and not remorse …

When I started this blog, I was a carefree college student who wanted to improve her language and remain motivated to write owing to the positive feedbacks and comments from the blog.A lot has changed over the last year and I have developed so many duties and responsibilities that the things which seemed so small and insignificant have gained a lot of importance – little things I forgot to appreciate.My sister- my one and only steady companion throughout my life who made sure I never felt left out from anything and my secret outing partner. Those little confidence boosts you gave were what that kept me going through whatever was happening. By standing by you, I drew the strength and confidence I needed. That small appreciation and smile was all that I looked forward to after I have worked my ass off for something.My grandparents- That chocolate every day when I took the school bus- not a month, not a year or two, but six long years. Seeing their faces, their smile, my nearly blind grandfather look for me showed what love was. He used to stretch his arm out till I touched his and said bye and gave an almost toothless smile in the approximate direction of the hand. I had to call him and tell if I needed any emergency stationery so that he can get them for me that morning and it was obligatory to inform him if I took a day off. My forgetfulness would be paid back by an earful over call that morning, which would be forgotten right after…My father- The way he used to bring home small snacks in the evening to take along with the “high tea”- an evening ritual when we all used to gather in that living room and explain how the day went. That 10-20 minutes before the “study time” used to be a great way to interact with each other. And, how he remembers the small things we tell him and get them for us in the evening clandestinely, hand over the brown paper cover and see the surprised look on our faces…My uncle- The way he used to sneak out and get things when we needed them. He used to work in the kitchen for an hour or two and come out with great aloo paratas or masala dosas, just to see the smile on our face and seeing us eat to our heart’s content. The surprises and the treasure hunts which you planned during our childhood and the small notes you left behind when you went out of station were little things which mattered so much… Pranav- we may not share the same blood, but I used to look forward to the new “words” and vocabulary you picked up from school every day. Despite being a child, you used to notice the little changes in my appearance, be it the outfit or just my nail colour. I used to eagerly anticipate your little head bobbling inside your house every time I dressed up…AMMA- NO words can ever describe what you did for us ma. I don’t even think I can express what you did for us in English despite me having used it for such a long time to express my thoughts. You used to lend a ear whenever we ranted, even when you were bedridden and fighting cancer. I used to tell you my day’s agenda sitting on the dining room floor eating and seeing you through the kitchen door- working and listening, simultaneously with full attention. All of us wanted you to be home when we got back because you always welcomed us with a smile and of course, your favourite cup of tea…All these may seem like small gestures. But when you start living on your own with no one to welcome you in an empty house, all this would matter a lot…In this moment, I would like to thank God for blessing with these little things which made my childhood memorable and my house a home. I’d never change any of this even for a million rupees. I would also love to thank my family for making my life wonderful. Love you all…

Happiness, a gift we never seem to give ourselves

It feels like 2021 started yesterday. But here we are, standing at the almost brink of the year, yet no improvement in our situation regarding the corona virus which took over the reins of the world in the year 2019. What has happened is that the situation has worsened for some and improved for some, but none have completely recovered. And it’s been more than a year since we started working from the comfort of our homes…

At this juncture, a friend of mine started compiling an anthology based on the happiest moments in our life. As I consider myself to be a very happy person, I readily signed up for this. I too needed something to write on, as I was struggling to find topics to write on for my blog. A three-page narrative was expected out of me and being a literature student who has spun stories for pages I thought it wasn’t too big a deal for me.

Having felt this way, I didn’t sit down with a paper and pen (like I usually do). Instead, I took my laptop, told my family I was going to write (which made them very happy, as I hadn’t been writing for a long time then). And I sat there, deliberating, contemplating, ruminating, pondering, yet coming up with nothing but synonyms for thinking!

After two hours of racking my brain and getting a headache, I had typed only a teeny tiny passage with not even 100 words. I felt so ashamed to call myself a blogger or to show my family what I had written. After two or three unsuccessful attempts and wasting almost 8 hours, I realized I was struggling to recall happy moments of my life. If it had been about any bad memories in life, I would have completed it in a jiffy, I am so sure about it.

When I finally racked my brain dry, I could finish the three-page narrative, which wasn’t very satisfactory. Being blessed with an ability to remember a lot of things, I had been abusing it by recalling and ruminating over unnecessary memories which weren’t making me any happier. Being confined to the “so-called” comforts of my home had worsened it- I was ceaselessly thinking over the good times I had before the advent of Coronavirus.

That day, I decided to give myself the gift of happiness- to recall good memories to my level best. The past is great but being nostalgic all the time will take us nowhere into the future! Let’s try to focus on the new year which is to come in two months’ time, and plan to make our lives better in the new normalcy…

Have a great week everyone!

Renewing some superstitions!

There are great too many advice and proverbs left behind by our ancestors. We don’t understand the meaning of some and ward off some as mere superstitions. I had to revoke the decision on one of the beliefs based on my personal experience. And that saying is…..


“Murunga marathula Vedhalam irukum. Athnala atha veetu vaasal la vekka koodathu” (Vedhal, a type of ghost, lives in the Moringa/ Drumstick tree. So, you shouldn’t have in the front of your house) Initially, I thought it was kind of a hogwash created based on the shape of the vegetables and the wind-based dispersion of the seeds.
But, recently, I felt they were indeed right! Not just because the tree is quite hollow and can be brought down by the mildest of winds, but it also invites impostors!
Not being people who believe in superstitions, we had two trees in front of our house. Rather than placing them directly near the entrance, we had placed them a bit far from the door, but within our sight of vision. All of us had a liking for both the leaves and vegetables of that tree, so we decided not to bring it down.
But to our dismay, we found that that tree often draws unnecessary strangers near our house. Living in a locality which is near a village like community, we were already feeling ousted owing to the linguistic disparities. Having this tree was like inviting problems on purpose (Next proverb- Velila pora oonana vetila vidrathu). Note: We were never against sharing the resource given to us by Mother Nature. But the people in our neighborhood never used to ask. In order to get a small quantity, they used to break whole branches without any regret. Even when we ask them to limit the quantity they take during the harvest season, they’d say the tree will always sprout back!

The most important point to be noted here is that none of these people have trees in their household. Leave trees, they don’t even have potted plants! The houses are constructed in such a way that you can actually take things from your neighbor’s window if your hands are long enough! There is absolutely no space for plants. Even if they see a tree or a even a small plant in an empty plot nearby, they make sure to uproot it even when they have so many other works to take care of. They never want to take care of a plant, but they are the first ones who try to reap a benefit out of them when someone else puts the efforts to take care of them.
I won’t say it is totally wrong. At least ASK before you take. And keep in mind that it is someone else’s tree, not yours. Try not to tear it down when you made absolutely no efforts to take care of it. Try growing your own plants from the next time, maybe…

That tree may not have housed evil spirits, but it draw quite a lot of them to our house.

In order to avoid further squabbles in this regard, we have decided to remove both the trees and plant them else where inside our own compound.

Yours,

A Nature lover and enthusiast,

Matangi alias The Random Indian Girl

Aliens with a cloak of invisibilty!

“A girl must learn how to drive!”

This has been my mother’s constant advice since I was seven years old. Being an only child who got sick often, my grandmother had never allowed her to learn to ride a bicycle. After we moved to Coimbatore, she found her inability to drive to be a great drawback as she HATED using public transport. She was unable to go anywhere- be it bank or grocery store. So she prompted me and my sister to learn driving. She instilled the passion for driving in both of us. So, I learnt to ride a bicycle at the age of 9 and a bike at the age of 13 and I absolutely loved it!   It has provided me with a sense of independence and absolute freedom. Even when I felt low out of the blue, going out on a ride and feeling the wind ruffle my hair used to cheer me up.

After getting my driving licence at the age of 18, I didn’t need anyone to chauffer me around. So, my sister and I started going on little trips to nearby places for nature photography as well as the fun of driving.  On one recent trip, we went to Ooty (Yes, only the two of us. We are adults who don’t need chaperoning). As a result, I had written the post “Road to Heaven”.

Ok, what does this have to do with this paradoxical title? I know I am Potter head, but no, I have not come in possession of Harry’s Invisibility Cloak nor am I adept in Transfiguration like Professor McGonagall. But, on this trip, both my sister and I realised that seeing two girls going on a drive, especially in the mountains, is as bizarre as sighting aliens. That means we were stared at, right? Then what about invisibility?

 Some men and women refused to even acknowledge us on the roads. They just crossed the road even though we were awfully close and honking continuously from our vehicle. One man even put out his hand to stop a bus which was almost 50 feet behind us. He raised his hand so quickly that I had to make a quick turn in order to avoid getting punched in the face! The bus behind us was really slow and he could have waited till we crossed him. But, no! He never even shot a glance at us!

Some drivers were worse. When they wanted to make a turn, they looked in their rear-view mirror. Even if we were visible, they took the turn anyway…But the same men had slowed down when they saw other men driving.

But these same men argue when someone does the same to the female members of their family… I don’t know, but did I miss something here??

Once again, I wish to state, I am neither a misandrist nor do I say all women are faultless drivers. Even I have given an earful to some women drivers when they drive without taking the other drivers on road into consideration. But it is regrettable that in a country were women are worshipped, people don’t even respect one. Forget respect, women must be visible before they are given respect!

Let us try treating women better and not stare at them like they are aliens when they like to be free and independent.

Yours in exasperation,

A Random Indian girl in a Blue Activa.

The Lost Hero…

Small precept from last week:- Uma, who loves her father beyond limits sees him die before her eyes because of his long term health issues. Her mind churned with all the memories… [Link:https://randomthoughts725641202.wordpress.com/2021/02/14/my-first-hero/%5D

Brought up in Madurai which was one of the hottest cities in the state, he used to fan her and rock her till she fell asleep. Once when she was down with jaundice, he used to ride his bicycle for almost 15 kilometers daily to bring her a packet of sugarcane juice which was not available nearby. As he was working for private organization, he had to rush back immediately before the stipulated lunch time. After he returned from work, he always spent his time beside her. One small moan from her was sufficient to wake him and provide her with something to eat.

She recalled all this as the relatives were recalling their time with him- his honesty, his straight forwardness, his optimism and so on. He had never refuted any of her wishes- not that she had many. But he did raise her in a strict manner. His relatives always held him in high praise while speaking of how he took care of his daughter. In fact, it was the goal of many to bring up their daughter/son the way he did.

But she couldn’t afford to collapse, could she? Her father would have expected more from her. She got about organizing things. She didn’t have the luxury of slipping into oblivion and lamenting the loss of the man she looked up her whole life.

The events- the final rites, the cremation got over in a daze. She was trying hard not to fall apart or cry for the sake of her family. If she cried, it meant she had come to terms with the fact that her father was no more. Even when her daughters tried to bring her out of her shell, she constrained her tears. She knew her daughters were scared, but she took some time to get in touch with reality.

A month after all this, Uma was going about, doing her regular household chores. Her daughter kept looking at her. Uncomfortable under her gaze and the tears in her eyes, Uma asked, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing ma” she said immediately, wiping her tears. “You are doing it just like Thatha”. Saying this, she left immediately, unable to restrain the copious tears flowing down her face.

At that moment, Uma felt maybe her father wasn’t gone after all. He still lived through HER- her gestures, the way she spoke and carried herself.

At that moment, she realized- there would be tears, there would be times when she missed him terribly. But she knew she’ll live through all this because that was what he’d want from her. He’d always reside in her as a voice of hope. His words, “This too shall pass” will help her in all the difficulties she faced.

Now, after two years after his death, one can see the beatific smile in her face as she faces all her troubles. She was not just her daddy’s delicate little princess, but a brave and strong woman who could fight the whole world with the optimism he had left behind with her.

And of course, the most magical of all words,

Appa…!

P.S., This story is my second attempt at short stories. If you feel there any changes which you would like me to make, please feel free to let me know in the comment section..

My first hero..!

Every girl’s first hero is her father. But that was not so in my case. As a child brought up by her grandparents(as I had mentioned in Memoirs of a Little Girl [randomthoughts725641202.wordpress.com/2018/10/28/memoirs-of-a-little-girl/]) my first hero was my grandfather. He used to carry me everywhere and the whole neighborhood knew I was his granddaughter. Only a person with such a level of optimism could live through all the physical ailments he had. He passed away two years ago on February 16 and the entire family, especially my mother Uma, was entirely devastated. On that fateful day….

Uma felt her father’s groans had increased that day…her heart too fluttered nervously in her chest, as if it already knew something bad was going to happen. She quelled her fears by repeating to herself, “The doctor had forewarned about the after-effects- the pain, the blister everything… Appa will be fine.”

A grim silence filled the house. Her daughter was reading a book and her mother was not in sight. Feeling very drowsy, Uma lay down in the hope of taking a short siesta before resuming her endless circle of household chores. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she had a strange dream. Her father, who was groaning in the next room, came in her dream and said, “I am leaving…” She was quite perplexed. “You came here only this week. What’s the hurry? You can stay here, get well and return home.” He just shook his head and got ready to leave. “Appa, wait!” she whispered and got up trembling. A sudden fear gripped her heart. She slowly entered her father’s room. There, her father who was sitting on the cot was trying to touch the ground. The moment she touched him, she could feel his life slipping slowly from his body. As she lifted him, she asked, “What are you doing pa?” His limp body fell back into the cot. After fruitless efforts at CPR by her daughter and herself, she realized that her father’s soul had indeed left his body. The first sentence sprung to her lips- “Appa, you can leave peacefully. I will take care of Amma carefully” She knew that was the assurance he needed from her. Uma was the apple of his eye. How wouldn’t she know?

As she stared at his corpse wordlessly, her mind overflowed wordlessly, her mind overflowed with innumerous memories. One word resonated in her ears “Appa!”

When she thought of him, the first thing which came to her mind was his hand- his touch. Though he was not a person who demonstrated his affection by touching or cuddling, the small pat on her back, the soft brush of his hand on her head showed his care. His voice, his words, though laconic, would dispel all her misgivings and fears.

When her mother had to work to manage the family’s financial burden, she spent most of her time with her handicapped grandmother. Both her grandmother and father made sure that she didn’t feel left out or alone just because her mother wasn’t around. Being an only child who was too weak for physical activities like sports, she would spend most of her day alone with her toys. She couldn’t remember a day from her childhood when her father wasn’t with her. He used to carry her till she was in her eighth grade as she grew tired easily.

The loud wail from her daughter brought her back to reality. “Amma! What’s wrong? Why isn’t he responding to our voices? Why do I still feel like I can hear his heartbeat? All this is so unnerving! Please try doing something!” Like Uma, her daughter too was brought up by her father. Her eyes filled with tears as her daughter continued wailing.

The way he pampered his granddaughter was his way of gratifying his love for his daughter. He bought her everything unasked- all that he couldn’t but for his own daughter owing to the financial constraints. He did not have a very impressive physical appearance- medium height, coffee complexion, small but sharp, almond shaped eyes. Many had told her that she had inherited his complexion and eyes. Wherever he went, he wore a watch. He took it off only when he was bathing. As he grew older, his poor eyesight did not allow him to look at the clock which was hung far away. So he wore his wrist watch even when he went to bed. Every time it ran out of battery, he went berserk and would not rest till it was changed. Through the thin veil of tears, Uma saw the watch which was still functioning intact on the wrist of the lifeless body. The watch did not stop, neither did her memories of her father…

To be continued…..

The road to heaven!

Heyyyyy all!

We are slowly proceeding to the new normal condition as schools and colleges have started functioning at least to a certain level. The roads are filled with uniforms, laughter, bicycles, school vans and of course, masks. Despite the initial breakouts in certain schools, the situation seems to be under control, touchwood. Is this the road to heaven? No, no. This is just my observation of what is happening around me…

So, what is this road to heaven? Before you get into an argument that the concept of heaven is abstract and it depends on the person’s beliefs, no, I am not here for that. I am here to talk about the heaven which we are slowly destroying- the lap of mother Earth, where we are surrounded by nature and her nuances.

In my opinion, the road to heaven would be lined by beautiful trees, birds, pastures and of course some libraries and restaurants- no one can enjoy nature without food and books! For any Coimbatorean, this description might bring a picture to their mind- the road to Nilgiris (Udhagamandalam), the Queen of hills herself. It is a place most Coimbatoreans would have visited- Ooty or at least Black Thunder which is en route to Ooty. The common places to visit in Ooty are Botanical Garden, Rose Garden, Boat House and to some, Ninth Mile and Pine Forest.

Though I initially detested going there owing to the extreme cold which I found almost unbearable, I developed resistance over a period of time and started going there frequently. As the days went by, I slowly saw how the trees on the road to Ooty were being brought down in order to facilitate the expansion of roads to facilitate easier flow of traffic. The aforementioned incident took place a couple of years ago. When I took the same route a couple of days, I saw many trees being brought down, again. I do understand that the trees needed to be removed for the purpose of expanding the road. What bothers me is that they are never going to plant trees elsewhere to balance out those that were being cut down.

And we are clamoring our neighboring governments for not providing us with water without taking the necessary measures to preserve rain water or facilitate rain.

What I found intolerable was the fact that Ooty was being deforested for commercial purposes and for the construction of a hospital. My father, who regularly visits Ooty and considers it be his home, was heartbroken at the sight of so many trees being brought down without any rhyme or reason. He found it difficult to recognize various places owing to the absence of vegetation inside the city. I could sense the loss and foreboding he felt on seeing the slow deprecation of the place he grew up.

If this was the condition of Ooty, Coimbatore is getting worse. With the construction of roads and over bridges all over the city, plantations of all kind were brought down. Even before that, I have felt that Coimbatoreans always have the feeling the trees are nothing but a nuisance. In my own neighborhood, if there were any problems caused by a tree, there was only one solution- cut it down. Not trimming, but bringing it down to its stump so that it never rises again. Before two decades, Coimbatore was considered to be “poor man’s Ooty”. If we proceed at this rate, Coimbatore will lose its trademark weather- the mild sunny days, breezy evenings and chilly nights.

Ooty and Coimbatore which have always been a source of happiness by letting us be so close to nature. Hope everyone realize this and try to prevent cutting down of trees or at least replace the trees that are being cut down.

Let us preserve our mother Earth who sustains not only our bodies but also our souls.

Wings to freedom!

Good day everyone!

I hope everyone is getting adapted to the new rules and developments of quarantine this year.

This week, I am going to talk about my observation of the most beautiful aspect of nature which is found in ample numbers inmy neighbourhood- Birds!

The English language holds too many metaphors, proverbs and similes using birds. They form an important part of nature’s food cycle. I too have been attracted by these “little feathered bipeds” (as defined by Salim Ali).

Being a pantheist, I’ve always loved going to places which take me closer to Mother Nature. When my sister @gayatrimathu(Gayatri Ramasubramani) started developing an interest in bird watching and nature photography, I was more than glad to accompany her on little bird watching trips. What started as a hobby changed our lives greatly, prompting us to take trips even outside the state in order to see our fine feathered friends. Identifying new species, cataloguing them, finding the other members of the same class- though tedious, was very exciting.

For the past eight months, we couldn’t travel much owing to the prevailing epidemic. But to our surprise, we found different species of birds coming to our very locality. Though excited at the beginning, we were beginning to get worried. Where were the birds before this? We never saw them this close before. Slowly, realization dawned upon us. They no longer had a home to return to. The slow disappearance of the trees and marshy lands had pushed them into a human infested neighborhood for survival. To make things from bad to worse, the open drainage system and the widening of roads had resulted in heavy deforestation, giving the birds no place to live in. Our neighbors, who despised greenery for some reason I could not fathom, never had trees or even small plants in their house.

We, the human beings with the supposed “sixth sense” should not be so selfish. Even the different birds of varied species in a locality make sure to never invade the other birds’ hunting zones. Just because we are more evolved doesn’t allow us to encroach their living space.

Birds are the symbol of freedom. Let’s try not robbing them of their freedom before using them as symbols for the same.

Farmer’s day!

Happy Happy Pongal everyone!
Here we are, finally, in 2021! Finally 2020, the “so-called” year of the pandemic is over! All of us have stayed indoors most of the time for the past nine months. I guess the most used words were masks, sanitizers, quarantine, social distancing and of course- POSITIVE. All of us got used to recognising each other with the masks on… even the dogs have started recognising people with their masks! The apparel industry got quite innovative with different patterns, colours and other novelties in that small piece of cloth called mask. The most pathetic part? The masks were never used for their actual purpose most of the time! It served as a beard, a new kind of earring which hung off the ear lobes, an escapade from annoying people etc., Last week, people were buzzing around the public distribution shops (ration shops, as we call them) to collect the provisions issued by the government. Oh, the masks? I couldn’t find any in sight. Social distancing? Hey, that was followed in a very strict manner! The customers maintained a very strict distance of -2 metres to avoid any mishaps by stampede!

Pongal , also known as Makar Sankranthi/ Bihu/ Lohri is a widely celebrated festival in India. It marks the day of harvest and paying tribute to the Sun God who has provided immense support in the production and harvest of crops which provide livelihood to more than half of India’s population. Agriculture has been the backbone of our country’s economy through the years. It has fuelled our vast trade relationships with various other countries and made India one of the richest countries in the world. We, the beneficiaries of agriculture should take this day to thank those who provide for our daily meal. Every year, This festival has been a great source of happiness as my sister and I take this opportunity to decorate the entrance of our house with different rangolis and fill them with colours, eat the delicacies prepared by my mother and so on…
But this year, I did not enjoy it is as much as I do every year because of many reasons. One- I have never witnessed so much of a downpour as I have seen this year during Pongal. The clouds and the climate seem to make us a bit too gloomy. Last month, we had rains when it was supposed to be cold. The month before, that is November 2020, when we were supposed to have rain, we were roasted by the scorching heat of the sun. This change in the climatic conditions is something we really need to worry about but we are not.
The most important reason is the farmers’ protest which is going on throughout the country. Are we to live in a country whose backbone is agriculture but the laws won’t heed to the needs of a farmer? We are not concerned. After all, all we do is buy agricultural goods. We never realise the suffering of a farmer who toils all day and still doesn’t get to enjoy the fruits of benefit. The people who feed us struggle to make both ends meet, still, they refuse to leave this profession for a better job. According to them, this is what their ancestors did and it is wrong to leave such a noble profession that feeds millions. Even after the heavy debts they incur, they say the feeling of being able to satiate people’s hunger fills their heart with happiness and contentment..
Not all of us can become farmers. Not all of us have that capability. None of us produce our own food. We owe it to the farmers for providing us with food which will sustain our lives. After all, at the end of the day, we can’t eat the currency notes, can we?
Instead of just remembering them on this day and forgetting them for the other 364 days, let us fight against the construction of buildings in our natural water reservoirs like lakes. Let us try not to bargain for things from a small vendor after knowing that the price he/she is quoting is fair. Let us try to procure goods directly from those who produce it, so that the money goes to those who produce the crops and not the crafty middlemen. Let us try to plant more trees without thinking of them as a nuisance and a waste of time. Let us try to value the efforts of those who bring us our food by toiling ceaselessly under the sun.
Jai Hind!