During my recent trip to Uttarakhand , I was faced with a problem I had never encountered before. We were passing through Delhi, but we had hardly any time in the city. On earlier visits when I have had to change trains/flights at Delhi, I have always arrived in the morning and left again at night, visiting relatives in between. This time, I was arriving in the city at night, and leaving again early in the morning. There was hardly any time to visit people. I would only have a couple of hours with them before I’d have to leave again. For the first time, we considered booking a hotel, but there again, we were hesitant about the actual hotels, the costs involved, and the logistics of getting from the airport to the railway station and then back again from the station to the airport. That’s when we remembered reading something about a corporate-managed lounge at Delhi station. We soon figured out that we could book online and pay by the hour. Besides, we also learnt that there wasn’t ju
Tender feet..
Wearing pretty anklets...
They should be busy running around, playing...
Yet,
They walk a tightrope..
Literally as well as figuratively..
Balancing themselves on the rope of jute,
as well as that of life..
I am no poet, and calling those few lines a poem would be doing an injustice to poems, but I couldn't help but pen them down, while I wondered what to post today for Navaratri. I couldn't post anything yesterday, since I was out all day with friends, and we were at Kala Ghoda when we saw them.. the tightrope walkers.
They are folk artists of a kind too, and their art is fast dying, in this fast paced life where we have no time to stop and see them perform. I have seen them recently only in rural areas, so it was good to see them in Mumbai, for a change.
And yet, even as I watched them, I wondered about the girl... and her parents. They lived in Panvel, hailing originally from Chhatisgarh (as they told me), and evidently managed to eke out a living from their skill. The young girl seemed to walk the rope effortlessly... even as her mother hovered, and held out an arm protectively...
She was a spirited girl, insisting that she had never, ever, fallen off, and to emphasize her point, knelt on a plate, and showed us that she could walk across the tightrope even in that position!
My Navaratri posts are usually about some form of the Goddess, her temples, or the festival, but looking over my photographs, thought this was the right thing to post - after all, she embodies the very spirit of the Goddess we pray to, doesn't she?
The only question is - Do we look at her the same way as we do the goddess? Do we treat her with the same respect, love and admiration? She certainly deserves it!
Yes, I was about to write that you are a poetess!!
ReplyDeleteIt was interesting to see her walk on that rope & what all they have to do to earn the livelihood. A little Goddess!
Beautifully captured and well narrated... Feels proud of the girl, yet sad too coz she has to earn bread for her and her family at that age...
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