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In our quest for modernity and progress, do we lose our roots? Or our roots strong enough to sustain change?
The old Banyan tree that stands on the corner of the road, Tells me a story wise and untold. The smell in the air and the soil on the ground seem familiar to me, I feel glad standing there, I feel I can breathe, I feel free…
As I walk through the sides of the old village road, The tree is intrigued to see my different expressions unfold. On one side of the road leading to the village is a small house, There sits a man, with his radio on and eyes shut,
His wife, the woman, mops the floor, cooks the food fast as a mouse, That’s not a new story, a story of every home, house, hut. But what amazes me is the other side, With a big building some six floors tall and painted new
It’s a different world I see on a different kind of ride, With women still the same, its too old yet different a view. The big house is done, yet we are the same, Clothes change, values don’t, rigid we are even if we get a new name.
I stand beside the years old tree and question myself how and why, It’s mindboggling, with no answer even when too hard I try. I realize as I touch the long stems turned roots of the tree, Are we moving too fast or should we call it getting free.
A friend told me once that old values are rigid and they bind, They delay progress acting as hurdles towards our goals. I see them intact, I can’t see the change how hard I try to find, What has changed is the cover, when we wanted a change of roles.
People want multistory, they want big cars and assets all, But the sad part remains, as life issues still crawl. Women still run like the mice, they still are unsure Is getting assets, TV and fridge the only cure?
Why are we losing our community roots and turning towards cities, The thought makes me panic, instead of creating any ease. Who decides what values to keep and what assets to value more? Who decides what will work, will sustain and who keeps the score?
Some say change is good, I agree But what if change makes us more bound than making us free. I see the tree and I wonder deep again, Are these roots a symbol for strength and being on the ground?
Are we heading towards any gain or in for much more pain? Are we on the right track or is it the destination we have found? My mind flutters, the tree tries to ease me down, “You think too much”, it says as I am about to frown. The journey has just started and its heading towards a goal, Everything will find a direction and yes, you will find your soul.
I look inside my heart, rootless and raw, I feel a pain shoot up, its as if my two sides I just saw One side of me that wants to still be on the ground, The other side which is there is hollow yet flies
My mind and heart debate starts again as I try to question my life, Black and white, good and bad, who decides which is the right side. I close my eyes and let the sounds around fade away in air, I feel soulless and its not fair.
But then, am just a bud waiting to spread my petals around, My identity isn’t lost, its still yet to be found. With questions in my mind and a heart filled with hope, I begin my journey towards my work, I walk down with a smile down the slope!
Pic credit: Matthew (Used under a Creative Commons license)
A Development Communication & Social Work professional working in the field of gender, health and technology for grassroots. A Doctorate in participatory communication for development. A Feminist to a Human Right Activist, stressing on convergence & read more...
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