In this part of country, people call me 'Okhiles'. It is the love in their words that even a different vowel used hardly matters. Though I am used to hearing differently pronounced name of mine but the smiles of love and echt, disarms me here completely. My name and response it gets has become uniform similar to the diversity I have seen in India.
Difficult to withstand, interrogative interaction, hasn't been through my way here. People more or less share what they want to say, and hear what I offer (most of the times what I say is nonsense, which I have realised of late!). Indian hosting frills around good food being served to the guest. My hosts being generous and concerned, with the bulging eyes, sometimes are saddened of the fact that despite being hill-man (pahadi) I am a vegetarian. I do feel bad by making them sad but can't help it as there are only few principles, my life thrives on otherwise I am a sinner for the most part!
Back in rural Assam, worldly-wilderness finds no place. It is strangely silent place with so many things to hear from. From innocence to subtle beguilingness of people (which moves me in and out of interactions), genuine hosting and concern, everything seems to be a part of rich evolving cultural heritage of this hilly state. At large people here are simple and straight, which touches me deep inside.
Simplicity here is an expression and when something touches the soul – expression to it would be recognition and respect, in a parasitic culture I was brought up and still thrive in.
Silence which is a virtue and privilege of the rural and hilly regions can drive you for life!
This is very nice!
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