How I spent my summer vacation!
Studies say that there may be a permanent energy crisis in future; to the extent we won’t have gas or electricity even to make chapathis or rice.
So let’s spin our wheel of memory to many years before when ox and bullock carts used to carry us and our luggage. These carts were main mode of transport in villages.
During our school days, (this is something which everyone not barriing age would remember) every year, when the school reopened, our English Teacher made us write an essay on “How I spent my summer vacation”.
How much I dreaded that first day, mainly because of the essay!
This was the toughest essay I had to write during my childhood days because while others made a trip to Bombay and India Gate, or Delhi and Taj Mahal, or even to US or Switzerland, I had nothing to write on, because my trips were always to a village where my grandparents lived. My cousins and I were invariably dumped there during every summer vacation, year after year, if I remember right, till I completed school.
But now, when I think of the village and the greenery surrounding it, they are pleasant remembrances compared to the vacations being spent by the younger generation, of late. The heat, special classes, boredom, (“I am bored” is what these kids have to say these days) make these kids yearn for the school environment and back-to-routine.
Now coming back to the bullock-cart – my memories race back to when we got down from the train, smelling of coal, with our hold-all and the suitcase, “Payyan” (means boy) was there to greet us and take us home. As far as I know, it never struck us that he would have a name. He was “Payyan” for us.
The cart had two gentle bullocks tied to it. Payyan was an expert in balancing the luggage and us in the cart. . He was the cart driver and all he did was to prod and whip the bullock The bullocks, which would move as gently as possible, had the unique instinct to lead us to our home.
Payyan would first place the luggage in front and then make a young kid sit cramped with his tiny legs on the luggage.. Then after a debate of who should sit behind with their legs dangling down, payyan was the one to decide on it, he would jump and sit on the edge of the seat in front and prod the bullocks to move.
We realized that the cart is moving only when our head started knocking on the cart. Every ten steps, the bullocks went on a strike and refused to budge. Payyan had to prod and whip and make peculiar sounds to make them move.
Payyan entertained us with his typical village talk in a nasal slang and sang a few songs to while away the time. It would have been hardly a five-minute drive in the car, while these bullocks took nearly half an hour to take us home.
Our impatience and restlessness would start showing half-way because of the slow pace. Swaying rhythmically and trying to balance and fighting the movements was quite tiring. In order to entertain us, Payyan kept singing, and at the same time, made strange noises to keep the bullocks moving.
“Now, if you don’t stop talking, I will see that you stick to the cart and not move at all. I know magic!” He would shout at the kids.
The youngest of the lot never ceased to cry on hearing it, though this was his tactics to scare the kids year after year...
The creaking of the cart, the moving bullocks, and other aspects of the village was a guide to harmonious simplicity but now their links to the cities have made it a rare quality.
However the energy crisis which is looming large might bring about a revolution which would take us back to our past again, and who knows, though they are threatened with extinction, we may soon see bullock-carts getting a new lease of life and see them plying in the heart of the city!!
Showcased on http://www.sulekha.com/blogs on May 2, 2007
So let’s spin our wheel of memory to many years before when ox and bullock carts used to carry us and our luggage. These carts were main mode of transport in villages.
During our school days, (this is something which everyone not barriing age would remember) every year, when the school reopened, our English Teacher made us write an essay on “How I spent my summer vacation”.
How much I dreaded that first day, mainly because of the essay!
This was the toughest essay I had to write during my childhood days because while others made a trip to Bombay and India Gate, or Delhi and Taj Mahal, or even to US or Switzerland, I had nothing to write on, because my trips were always to a village where my grandparents lived. My cousins and I were invariably dumped there during every summer vacation, year after year, if I remember right, till I completed school.
But now, when I think of the village and the greenery surrounding it, they are pleasant remembrances compared to the vacations being spent by the younger generation, of late. The heat, special classes, boredom, (“I am bored” is what these kids have to say these days) make these kids yearn for the school environment and back-to-routine.
Now coming back to the bullock-cart – my memories race back to when we got down from the train, smelling of coal, with our hold-all and the suitcase, “Payyan” (means boy) was there to greet us and take us home. As far as I know, it never struck us that he would have a name. He was “Payyan” for us.
The cart had two gentle bullocks tied to it. Payyan was an expert in balancing the luggage and us in the cart. . He was the cart driver and all he did was to prod and whip the bullock The bullocks, which would move as gently as possible, had the unique instinct to lead us to our home.
Payyan would first place the luggage in front and then make a young kid sit cramped with his tiny legs on the luggage.. Then after a debate of who should sit behind with their legs dangling down, payyan was the one to decide on it, he would jump and sit on the edge of the seat in front and prod the bullocks to move.
We realized that the cart is moving only when our head started knocking on the cart. Every ten steps, the bullocks went on a strike and refused to budge. Payyan had to prod and whip and make peculiar sounds to make them move.
Payyan entertained us with his typical village talk in a nasal slang and sang a few songs to while away the time. It would have been hardly a five-minute drive in the car, while these bullocks took nearly half an hour to take us home.
Our impatience and restlessness would start showing half-way because of the slow pace. Swaying rhythmically and trying to balance and fighting the movements was quite tiring. In order to entertain us, Payyan kept singing, and at the same time, made strange noises to keep the bullocks moving.
“Now, if you don’t stop talking, I will see that you stick to the cart and not move at all. I know magic!” He would shout at the kids.
The youngest of the lot never ceased to cry on hearing it, though this was his tactics to scare the kids year after year...
The creaking of the cart, the moving bullocks, and other aspects of the village was a guide to harmonious simplicity but now their links to the cities have made it a rare quality.
However the energy crisis which is looming large might bring about a revolution which would take us back to our past again, and who knows, though they are threatened with extinction, we may soon see bullock-carts getting a new lease of life and see them plying in the heart of the city!!
Showcased on http://www.sulekha.com/blogs on May 2, 2007
