The city to city hopping had made me forget all about the small town India. All that remained in the name of small town memories were in the form of second hand information from the book – Butter Chicken in Ludhiana. It had been 8 years since I went to my parent’s native town and even longer since I visited a village. So the rude shock of road travel in U.P took the mind screaming through small shops, clustered and congested roads, crowded side walks, solitary bakeries, numerous chai stalls, painfully slow life and big dreams. Big trucks loaded with hay, urea, men, women, beds and even hand drawn carriages.... Where else in the world will you see such a sight? I wonder if one day there would be a city to village exodus, whether we will all one day go back to our agrarian roots and farm for a living. What an utterly delightful idea for a soul tired of city nuisances!
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