My Panorama

The land of Krishna.. So this one is a long due. I had a chance to visit the city of divinity, city of love, city where the name krishna resonates in every nook and corner. The city which believes the completion of Krishna only with his Radha. The city which taught me so much about the power of feminism. The essence of softness with masculinity. The importance of Raas with Leela. The city of Vrindavan. So we took a night bus to the city of chants. With the break of first ray of sunshine, I opened my eyes to the early morning rituals of the city. It felt like I was transported to the time when our beloved Kanha trotted the same lanes I was traversing.Little Gwals chased the tyres with sticks. Cows had been replaced with tyres but the chuckles remained same. Old, head-shaved, pony tailed, vermilioned pandits and saints bathed in the holy tap waters with only one din on their lip “Radhe Krishna” and hurried to perform the morning pooja to please their beloved Krishna. ...

(This was my entry for Write India- TOI for Amish Tripathy) Ofcourse I din't win. Anyways enjoy :) Close to the city of Paithan, in a small village called Sauviragram, which lay along the banks of the great river Godavari, lived a woman named Ilaa. Being cotton farmers, her family was well to do, but not among the richest in their area. It was the harvest season, and cotton had to be picked from the plants. The wholesalers and traders from Paithan would be arriving in just a few weeks, carrying gold and goods for barter. They would exchange what they carried for the cotton that the farmers grew. The bales of cotton had to be ready in time! Work was at its peak! But Ilaa was not to be found in the fields. She wasn't working. Instead, she was sitting by the banks of the great river Godavari. 'I am sick of this!' she grunted loudly. Their crop had failed. The lightening in the night burnt the entire harvest. It was a sign of the turn her fortune had taken...