The smell of scorched crops filled the air, Rukhmani returned home, walking through the dead fields that her husband once ploughed, with a pot of water drawn from the nearby well. Parshuram, her husband, was nowhere to be seen. She had a slow sip of water and moved out the back entrance that oversaw miles and miles of paddy field. A lone rustic shed stood out like a thorn amidst the wonderful landscape. Parshuram was sitting inside the shed on a makeshift stool, taking one slow drag of the beedi, while observing the neighbour ploughing his field with his son. He smiled at his fortune of an early retirement, as his son sent him a steady source of cash every month from the city. Life was slow, Rukhmani and Parshuram were counting days, as life did not throw any surprises anymore. Dust, heat, flies and silence engulfed their lives in the day, the stars gave company to their loneliness & regret in the night.
Ramdev, gingerly walked to the field, which he ploughed, but did not own. He cursed his son for being a dimwit the entire way. Shwas was a strongly built boy but was a slow learner. As he reached his field, he gave a nod to his neighbour, who sat in the dilapidated shed, acknowledging his existence. How Ramdev wished from his heart that Shwas would go to the city and relieve him of his misfortunes of struggling every day, where time does not seem to pass or work does not seem to end. He too would then retire and resign to leisure. Ramdev's only source of happiness was his wife and daughter, who served a hot meal at midday and night. The meal at night was generally onions n bhakri served with some fruits from the forest near their hut. The air surrounding the hut was filled with banter & laughter, but come morning Ramdev would wake up with explicit regret.
A few years later, on a dusty and dry summers day, in a black BMW, Shravan returned to cremate his parents Rukhmani and Parshuram, he was accompanied by his wife and son. Ramdev was present at the cremation with his son, he noticed that there wasn't any tears or weeping. On the way home, Ramdev stopped & hugged his son for the first time, Shwas reciprocated with tears of joy.
"The son that never returned,
The fortune that never sufficed,
The tide that never turned,
A life devoid of love"
"To wish for more than you need,
To live each day with regret,
If only one can realise, happiness does not reside in fortunes
But in frozen grains of time called memories"
"Life goes on, it gets so heavy, The wheel breaks the butterfly*"
Paradise ~ Coldplay
The metamorphosis of life is heavily pitted against the cycle of time, as there is a constant trade-off between the trivial and the important. Only when the hamster escapes the wheel, it realises that it has not taken any steps forward for self or evolved any relations that truly matter.
We prefer to race alone, race quick and race ahead in life. The family is seen as a weakness that does not sit well with an ambitious career. For the few who want to make a difference, I say, march ahead with your loved ones through life, who have brought you up and who care for you. Like the hamster don't be too late to realise, that when you have amassed all the wealth that one can have and have scaled the peak of your career, only to look back and see, there is no one who matters or truly cares.
* A line of Alexander Pope’s Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot: “Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?” The line is usually interpreted as questioning why someone would put massive effort into achieving something minor or unimportant.
Wheel of time
