Thursday, April 29

The concrete jungle

My darling sweet gullible cousin Dinima and I are more of best friends. We live in the same locality, in the same building and most of the times, we're together. Our locality is a contrast of a farmlands (which are almost extinct) and vast buildings. From my house, you can't see any of the land.

This place, it has it's own history in land division. The YADAV community owned huge lands here. And their idea of claiming land was... as some might say... unique. Any strong person would hit the stick on the ground and the land till where the voice was audible was taken under. This nomadic, farmer tribe still owns lands here. However mordernisation and urbanisation came gradually, housing requirements increased and so did price of land. The Yadav community is rich (at least more than the educated ones) as they are selling out the strength of their previous generations- the land.

The stick practice is gone. But farmlands are as endangered as tigers. Perhaps even more.

I went with Dinima at her friends. A very modern and hi-tech locality. From the sixth floor, the view of the farmlands was something breath taking. From this side I could see their very modern swimming pool and the primitivity of farm culture seperated by a very thin line of the housing demand.

"Dinima," I called out. She (apparently interrupted) turned her face towards me with a "yeah?" expression.

"See that farm."

"Yeah, I've seen... pretty cool."

"Yeah that," I said. "And maybe there'll be a builing like this there..." Of course, to her the images are beautifully preserved. Reality is devastating. She was apparently hurt by this fact as I.

We people have already given up on our values all in the name of modernity. Sometimes, it feels that my thoughts are just conservative. But I am not saying don't sell the land if you need money, all I am saying, is keep some as a part of ancestral treasure. You never know when it might just come in handy.



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