Saturday, November 14, 2009

The quest begins ...

... who cares for just another blog ? I don't. Do you ?
... but then why am I here ? doing what ? looking for who or what ? do I need anything ? or do I have something to offer ... something to share? who do I share with? who needs my thoughts and paraphernalia anyways ?
... Heavens !
... why, who, when, what, where, how ...
God ! ... this is way too confusing ...
... and I thought it was a cakewalk ...

But then, on second thought ... I see a purpose behind all this confusion ... the reason behind this madness ...

... a faint picture appears ... very faint ... worne out by decades of oblivion ... a kid standing spellbound, watching with his large, vulnerable eyes wide open with wonder ... Gouri, one of his few favourite animals reared in the backyard of his house, delivering its first off-spring in one of the chilliest winter mornings of the late 70s. The kid, along with four other cousins, who were all part of a large Brahmin joint family, got mesmerised by what they saw ... the apparent signs of pangs of birth-pain in Gouri, a large, beautiful white cow, the concern on the face of the middle-aged veterinarian and "Jethu", the eldest son of "Borodadu" (the elder amongst the two grandfathers in the family), who were overseeing the delivery and who had allowed the kids, after a lot of pestering, to watch the spectacle ... the plausible relief and joy in the air once the calf was delivered, the pet doctor's post-delivery care, Gouri's anxiousness to shower her care on the newborn, the wet calf's constant effort to stand and stabilise and its inability to do so, its palpable joy and comfort on being licked all over, by its mother ...

... days passed ... watching the antics of the new born became a favourite pastime of the kid .. how the calf got used to drinking away its mother's milk ... how it got used to the presence of kids around it ... how it got used to getting tied down to a post, when its mother got milked for the family's consumption, how it got used to the jute sack that got wrapped around its body during the night to protect it from the chill, how it made itself cosy with the warmth of its mother's body during the nights ...

... the best part for the kid was ofcourse something else ... his first exposure to uncontrolled, no-holds-barred freedom and apparent madness ...

The backyard, the courtyard and the empty space around the house was substantially large ... and the calf made the best use of it ... it spend hours running around, not strong or stable, yet free and energetic ... reaching all possible corners ... randomly altering its path - without any rhyme or reason, deliberately pushing the frontiers of the space available, completely unmindful of any danger whatsoever, often slipping and hitting things unmindfully, everytime getting up on its wobbling legs and re-initiating its run ... as if destinations didn't matter, goals were yet unheard of ... reasoning made way for the sheer pleasure of exploring ... the blinding passion and intoxicating insanity of "seeking" ...

... the kid loved what he saw ... it got etched, permanently, on the canvas of his young mind ... got covered by the dust and dirt of changing time, responsibilities, priorities and sensibilities ... but the form stayed ... the beautiful images stayed ... the urge to be able to become as free and carefree as a newly born calf, on a chilly winter morning stayed ...

... the kid grew up, started making money, became socially responsible, got "focussed" ... "goal-driven". ... but the wish remained ... and probably gathered momentum ...

... the kid's search for freedom continues ...

The Seeker

Pics courtesy: First Baptist Church




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3 comments:

  1. liked the writing... rather loved it

    ReplyDelete
  2. its difficult to remain the carefree new born calf....but words do hv the magic to make it happen n remain!

    ReplyDelete
  3. very nice...took me back quite a few decades. Thanks.

    ReplyDelete

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