I see old age homes proliferating in cities. I see old parents far away from their children, yearning for company. Many times passing away in aloneness.
And I see Eashwaramma in my village. Very poor. Part of a very poor village, PaalaGuttaPalle Dalitwada.
Her knee is fractured after a sudden fall. She is in pain. I call her up many times a day, as I am not in the village.
Each time i call she is surrounded with people. Chinapaapamma, Sankar Anna, Chelamma. Neighbors, friends, relatives.
As she is bed ridden they attend to all her needs. Food is also brought for her from one home or another. Anita, Annapurna, someone or the other.
Friends are always there to give her courage, reassurance, company. Help.
And her daughter from another village has come today in four days, with her cow, to be with her.
... . And again today. I wonder. On what yardstick we consider ourselves better, more developed, happier ... And again I wonder what it is we seek to give villages, given the disintegrating state of our urban lives, our homes, our cities ..
... the one question that assails me more and more with passing years.
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