By the time they approached Bhatnavalli, the sun began to set, and the villagers were seen resting in their courtyards. While some men were seen rolling their cigars with lanka pogaku, others were puffing away at theirs. Women there were found gossiping with their neighbors across the fences as if they were mending fences over past quarrels. As the landlords rode home in their bullock carts, farmhands too started trekking back from the fields with their head loads. Giving a picture of the carefree life to the visitors, the youths were engaged in kabaddi and the children were lost in their marbles. As though symbolizing the surging spirit of the fair sex, village belles vied with each other to come up trumps in competitive hops in those eight square courts that were marked in the courtyards. However, the hen in helter-skelter disturbed them in between, making them cautious not to step on them.

‘This is the famed pilgrimage of Balayogi,’ said Raja Rao as they reached Mummidivaram, ‘the saint who’s said to have been holed up in penance round the year. He was wont to come out of his hibernation only on maha sivarathri for his devotees to have his darshan. It’s believed that he had the power to survive without food or water and lived long for all that.’

‘Is it possible!’ she asked in surprise.

‘Well it’s a matter of faith, and his devotees believe in his miraculous powers,’ he said. ‘However, for every devotee there could be ten to deride the god-men.’

As it was dusk by the time they reached Kothalanka, the Ambassador had a herd of cattle on the homeward stretch to accompany. It seemed the dust raised by the vehicle on the kachcha road matched with the mood of the setting sun. While children ceased playing, watching the spectacle of the four-wheeler in motion, the elders craned their necks to second-guess the destination of the visitors.

~~~~~~

When their journey ended at his uncle’s courtyard, said Raja Rao to Sandhya, ‘There’s Thimmaiahgaru for you.’

As they stepped out of the car, the old man came out of the courtyard to receive them, all along blaming the transplantation time for his failure to attend their wedding.

‘Oh, the farmhands have become a big nuisance these days,’ grumbled Thimmaiah unceasingly. ‘You’ve to be behind them always or else they would give the slip at every turn. Any way, I’m glad you’ve come with your wife to your native. I’ve got your house spruced up; let’s see how your wife likes it.’

As he continued to engage them at the gate itself, Narasamma came out of the house, and reprimanded her old man, ‘Why, do you want to send them back from the gate itself?’




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