Autumn festival in Ooty

In Ooty, the pedestrians have to wait for a long time to cross the road; more so, during summer holidays when there would be an endless flow of vehicles. At times, you would be held up by long-winding processions of slogan-shouting politicians. Some pedestrians are smart enough to squeeze themselves through narrow gaps between vehicles or people. When  I find myself in such a position, I wait patiently till there is sufficient time and gap to cross the road or when I am in a hurry, I simply whisper “Shit” or “my goodness!”

 The other day, there was an endless procession when I came out of a shop and on seeing it my immediate reaction was more or less the same but my mood changed as soon as I saw some tribal youngsters in their traditional dress dancing their way forward. Most of them were slim figures but their energy and enthusiasm belied their physical appearance. The sound of their drums reverberated the atmosphere. They were followed by the white-clad tribal women dancing and moving in a circle. Then, there were school girls dressed like rural women and boys who looked as much rural as those girls. Then there was a train on the road! Closely following the train were several decorated vehicles.

 It was a wonderful show on the move, transcending all barriers of caste, colour or creed. Though the whole show was part of the on-going Autumn festival, we want more of it.

Author: P U Krishnan

First things first. I am one of those retired chaps who are young at heart. I watch cricket matches and jump for joy when Tendulkar scores yet another century. I read newspapers and books too, though I am not crazy about them. I think I have a mind free from hatred and I owe it to the wonders of nature and music. I scribble something now and then and call myself a writer! Though I have settled in Ooty, a lovely hill station in Tamil Nadu—I must emphasize the fact that I was born and brought up in Tellicherry in North Kerala and studied in the good old Government Brennen College. Of and on, my mind goes back to my ancestral house at Tiruvangad in Tellicherry in front of an ancient Sri Ram temple. I am indebted to this wonderful place which inculcated in me a love for cricket and literature. But all said and done, I am an Indian first.

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