A balance seems to lack in the metropolitan culture in contrast. No matter how deep you look, souls are never visible from behind the veils of social reactions. Where would Maslow identify us in the pyramid of hierarchy?
When Geeta didi, Gram Pradhan; Darmar, heard my question about why she thought no one came to their aid, she just laughed. She laughed and exclaimed, ‘Hum hi mahila toh karti hain. Aur kaun!’
While fingers are painted red in the processing unit below, the air around the entire building – top to bottom – is engulfed in a whiff of intense sweetness. It feels like the secrets of the jelly have been revealed. But there is more to it than you understand just yet.
There’s an air of satisfaction as she shares her story, and I can’t help but revel in it with her.
In a land where livelihoods are bare minimum and ambition is based on happiness rather than achievement, women find joining hands a sacred way to get by. Dearth is ample, but contentment flows in rivers. Self help groups, thus, become a great channel to imbibe values, yes, but also to make life a little more comfortable by knowing that they’re not alone.