Wake-Up Call: This is What Happened to My Mellow Mornings!

Working a typical nine to seven office job, I had got bored of the monotony surrounding my life. I decided to take a weekend break. What better than countryside, the pind of my friend. Moreover, she had invited me many times to come experience the bucolic laid back life of her village. Lock, stock and barrel I reached her village in Ludhiana. 

Reaching there, I was embraced in magnanimous bear hugs and chirpy welcomes from her family members. As I unloaded and made myself comfortable, I was deluged with food offers. Foodie as I am, I indulged in soft delicious roti, slow-cooked daal, mixed vegetable sabzi, thick curd raita, dollops of snow white butter, mint chutney, roughly chopped salad to be polished off with melt-in-the-mouth gur (jaggery). The food being organically raised, was finger licking good. I felt like a long lost princess who had returned home to great adulation. It was succour to the battle ravaged spirit. With conviction I can bet, no five star hotel can beat such hospitality and comfort. After the hearty meal, we enjoyed siesta prompted by the lazy afternoon sun.

Later in the day, my friend and I went for a walk on the brick laid streets of the village. I was awestruck at the simplicity of the humble village folks. They are hardworking and are in sync with the rhythms of the day. The toned and tanned wrinkles on their face speak of the rigors they have endured over the years. Indeed, nobody was madly rushing to chase a stringent deadline. None was worrying if the mail reply was mistakenly sent as reply all. A compliance had been met and a business plan had been tweaked for submission.

We stopped by the home of my friend’s chacha ji. The welcome accorded to me was again genuinely warm. Their smiles were from deep inside their hearts and their interest in me so genuine. They offered us delicious cream laced tea and atta biscuits made by the village baker. In fact, my gracious hosts were happy to share whatever I liked with such generosity. We then went to the village gurudwara and paid obeisance. The air in the village was oxygen rich and I didn’t feel tired walking nearly four miles around fields and rustic homes. We also, on request, entered a grand old haveli that was once constructed and owned by the now deceased Chief Justice of Punjab. The descendants had moved to the city and abroad, leaving behind a caretaker family. The rooms were numerous and had those old style alcoves which were once used to keep earthenware lamps. The roofs of the rooms had strong visible girders. I imagined the life of inhabitants who went through their daily chores in the spacious courtyard then. There must have been peels of laughter, kids must have pranced from one room to another, there must have been fights among the sisters-in-law and maybe with the grand old lady of the house too. The haveli must also have seen quite a number of fun-filled ceremonies. Its numerous rooms suggested that it must have housed a joint family.

Back to friend’s home, it was another round of delicious food ensemble enriched with slow-cooked pinkish kheer made on the traditional chullah. Sitting on charpoys, we concluded the day with a long chat. I slept like a pampered baby. 

After a satisfying day, much to my disdain I was rudely awoken by aerial skirmishes of the divine type in the early morning. It was 5 a.m. and loudspeakers from four gurdwaras were invoking the Gods. One chant from the another was indistinguishable. All religious speakers were equally eager to impress their audience. I squirmed on the bed and tried to shut my ears. But it was of no avail. The loud sounds were not only an assault on my senses but were also desecrating the holy words read from the holy books as they were getting lost in cacophony. I cursed the invention of loudspeakers, I wondered what really prompts somebody to yank others rudely out of their sleep and why do majority of our village folks accept this incursion on their right to peace. I asked my hosts about this unbelievable daily happening. Praying is definitely good but it can’t be at the cost of anybody’s peace I feel. My friend explained how she and her family faced the wrath of their fellow villagers when loudspeakers were objected to. I just could not come to terms with the lack of rationale. It happens in many other villages of Punjab as I collected notes. 

I am still at a loss. Hope someone explains to me why praying out loud is better vis-a-vis meditating silently. My beautiful journey was blemished with rude awakenings. Thud, I landed into reality.