I met him during one of My field trips, in Barmer Rajasthan. In a sparsely populated land filled with such great solitude that it has afflicted its inhabitants. An effect so clearly visible, on men and women- who speak with their silence, on houses- spaced out in such a way that each looks like an island in the sea of isolation, on trees- so still that even during the day land appears to be in deep midnight slumber, or near dead. The only defiance to intimidating isolation that human spirit shows here is the noise of colour, of attire of men, of outer walls of houses. The intensity of colour, it seems, takes fuel from the depth of isolation, like true arch-enemies, who are engaged in a battle to death, draw strength from each other. The isolation imposed by nature has pushed human soul to such desperation that it would do anything to attract attention of fellow human soul, like, lighting a lamp in the night in a hope that someone will be noticing at a distance. Even the assumed attention of a fellow human is comforting in this desperate isolation.
In a land so still I met this gentleman, whose name I did not have a chance to ask. He caught my attention, among so many things still, only because of his eyes. His face was a replica of the land he inhabited. The isolation of land was unmistakably visible on his face. The same stillness of his land which makes it impossible to find out if it is tranquility caused by contentment or stillness caused by death lurking nearby. A face petrified not by fear, but by complete lack of it. As if all emotions have been fossilised by monotony of isolated living. The only sign of life flickered in his eyes, which despite the barrenness of the landscape that they always looked at did not lose their curiosity, in a never dying hope which gives strength to human spirit to find contentment even in torture, if it becomes daily life.
In a land so still I met this gentleman, whose name I did not have a chance to ask. He caught my attention, among so many things still, only because of his eyes. His face was a replica of the land he inhabited. The isolation of land was unmistakably visible on his face. The same stillness of his land which makes it impossible to find out if it is tranquility caused by contentment or stillness caused by death lurking nearby. A face petrified not by fear, but by complete lack of it. As if all emotions have been fossilised by monotony of isolated living. The only sign of life flickered in his eyes, which despite the barrenness of the landscape that they always looked at did not lose their curiosity, in a never dying hope which gives strength to human spirit to find contentment even in torture, if it becomes daily life.
