Roots

I visited this region after a long time, more than two years, and I said to myself, not much has changed here. The roads are still quite broken every time it rains, dogs still run rampant on roads and many a time die without anyone giving much of a bother, cattle still roam around where ever they feel like, they relieve themselves or take a seat when they deem fit , where they deem fit. People walk on roads and pavements are meant for hawkers to sell vegetables, fruits, cheap knock offs, rat poison, medicines that claim to cure impotency and paan (a peculiarly delicious edible made using betel leaves, betel nuts and many other things I cant really explain).

Do I have a problem with it, hell yeah I do. But there is flipside, and a rather big one at that. Life is simple, people are simple. Needs are few and people are generally happier.

It was after a long time I took a train. The route, Asansol, a town in West Bengal, to West Bengal's capital, Kolkata. The train station was filthy, the stench awful. But somehow, it was not entirely unacceptable. Do not get me wrong, it is not that I would not do something about it if I could, it is just that I do not dislike the place inspite of that.

The fact is that these are my roots and this is the person I am. I have grown out of this. Upon deeper consideration, roots have this nature. The more deep seated they are, the more unchanging they get. The fact that your roots are filthy and nothing much can be done to change them, signifies the fact that you are a part of something ancient. You are a part of a generation, one of many, that have derived their origin from the same roots.

So yeah, no matter how dirty, filthy and rigid it might be; this is where I come from and this is where I belong.