Rural India has always held a fascination for me. As the urban life changes very quickly in India, the interior parts of India still manage to retain a lot of the life as we remember from many decades ago. This time we had the luck to drive through the interior parts of Karnataka.
Driving through the interiors was something my parents used to do a lot as we grew up. Driving through now 2 decades after I made my last such trip with my parents, I almost felt that the clock had been pushed back. It was a different matter we had not driven much in interior Karnataka. We did drive a lot through Kerala and Tamil Nadu but each state gives us a very different experience. Kerala, this time, was very different from the olden days.
Karnataka has managed to preserve those aspects of Rural India that made me regret that I did not know about IRMA until it was too late for me to do anything about getting an admission into the institute. It also took me back to 1.5 decades ago when we went on our honeymoon to Green Valley Resort in Doddaballapur – neighbouring the rural borders of and at that time away from the Bangalore city. Now Doddaballapur is on all the real estate advertisements on the way to the Bengaluru airport.
Our road trip to Hampi reminded me of the small village near Green Valley resort we had visited and that had captured my heart. One of the aspects that remained preserved in time this time was the usage of bullock carts. I saw sights imprinted in my memory from the past – was it from this birth or from the last birth? All these memories came back one by one:
- as the bullocks stood patiently waiting for the farmer to load the cart with the haystacks
- as the bullocks pulled the cart with its haystacks in the villages or on the highways
- as the bullocks even trotted ahead faster at the behest of the master who urged them to go faster in order to clear the way for the massive trucks – there was an earnest look on the master’s face and an anxious speed at the feet of the animals
- as the bullocks calmly stood tied to the trees in the villages we drove past
- as the bullocks being driven through the streets of the towns
- or as the bullocks were transported on the back of the small auto like truck – I hoped to the place where the cart was awaiting but then feared, perhaps for slaughter. Beef of a cow is banned – beef from bullocks are not…