Saturday, November 26, 2016
Perspective - Part 4 (Adventures of a Backpack continue)
On a particularly gloomy morning, I woke up to find myself on the big bed. A litter of clothing and a large bag occupied the space next to me. Rain pelted down outside, sliding down the window pane like tears.
We rushed to the airport for a long and hard journey to India. I gathered this was no vacation from conversations overheard and the urgency of the trip. Reaching our destination across the other side of the globe, I sat forgotten in a room. I observed many people walk in and out of the room, muffled cries through the night, quiet conversations, and plenty of hugs.
I gathered that a tragedy had befallen the family, in the extended family we had cruised with, and a sadness set in into my folds. One early morning, before the sun rose, I found myself stuffed and dragged into a car, into a train, and then into another car. By midmorning I found myself sitting on the banks of the mighty river Ganges, surrounded by the mystical mountain range, the very impressive Himalayas.
Getting back into the car, we travelled toward a cleaner part of the river and crossed to the other side on a swinging bridge. Monkeys and langoors swung from cables and ropes around the bridge, unperturbed by the fast flowing current beneath them. They jumped from cables to trees to the bridge as if putting on a show for everyone on both the banks and for those in between. As we dodged donkeys and motorcycles and massive amount of human traffic crossing over to the other side, a light rain began its pitter patter gradually increasing its intensity. My family rushed to take cover under a peepal tree across the bridge.
As we huddled under it, a beautiful calf joined us under the canopy of the leaves. He pushed its way in, joined our small group and stood tall and proud among us. His light brown coat shone on his young skin and stubbles of young horns sprouted on his head. He nuzzled his way in further into our group as we all became fascinated with the beautiful, friendly and innocent creature. My family fed it guava they had carried for the journey from their tree at home, they took pictures of the calf, for which he posed and modeled charmingly, and then they christened him. They named him BOB. It was then I began to ponder, what if I had a name. I guess that question will remain with me for a long time to come.to be continued...