Like how AK Ramanujan, in one of his books said - 'stories are born in the bylanes of villages' and I resonate with it.. completely! I would say Indian villages. As I have had the chance to see, live and love the Indian villages only :)
Like a beautiful painting, the mental imagery of all those villages that I crossed while riding pillion on a bike, is still fresh!
Be it the ladies sitting under a tree on makeshift bench. The bench made with stacking-up a few rectangular stones and a slab resting on top, or a group of elderly men sitting with their peasant attire (white cotton dhoti kurta and a cap) and a wooden walking stick; guiding the lost riders..
Or be the isolated five by five feet local busstand with an entrance so narrow that a normal person would have to get in it while walking sideways, sliding in the entrance :) and then watch the head too as the roof height would be hardly five feet.
Those farmers and labours on the farm, every pore of theirs speaks of hard labour, sweat and dedication.
Those women's milking the cows...
kids playing freely in the mud or stacks of hay.
A community who comes together to take it upon themselves to keep the mother earth free of plastics...
Those slow paced life yet the most satisfying and gratifying.
Those thatched roofs where hope and surrender to life co-exists.
Those humble Katte (chopal), raised platform around a tree trunk where two friends discuss life or may be the mush...
The story is conceived thru the eyes of a beholder, into the heart, where it is nurtured to bloom and touch all senses of a reader.
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