The View

Sundar unpacked his bags and looked out the window of the modest accommodation he had been allotted in the village. The fields spread out for miles around, intersected by roads carrying speeding cars. Very few commuters turned into the village itself but played touch-and-go with the cafe on the main road. A branch of a popular chain, this particular outlet was not very profitable but was sustainable and surviving because of some travelers who preferred its hygienic interiors to some of the more seedy messes nearby. But those messes, in fact, made more money because the local populace thronged there.

Sundar chuckled as he continued unpacking. He also had viewed the mess a little sceptically when his employer told him he could get food from there. When he went in there soon after reaching the village, he realised that it was not unhygienic, just a little dimly lit and run by people wearing lungis and t-shirt instead of the more formal shirt and pants in the cafe. Oh, yes, Sundar had joined the cafe as its manager. He could have one meal there but not all. Sundar had liked the mess food this morning. It was homely, less pricey, and friendly.

He changed and walked down to the cafe half a kilometer away, taking in the sights. He greeted the cleaning lady and the man behind the counter. He didn't know if he was really needed in this cafe so out of the way of modern civilization, but the owner was finding it difficult to monitor the operations and needed an experienced hand. It suited Sundar fine. He was also finding it hard to manage his life in the city and wanted a quiet place to lick his wounds. Less work was just fine. He couldn't go back to staring at the screen anymore, writing codes, or making software work. Meeting deadlines, handling client calls, running after targets - he felt burnt out. All he got to see when he looked up from his screen was the wall of his cubicle. Smoke breaks took him to a high-traffic street outside, amidst the noise of horns and speeding vehicles. A recently built flyover had blocked all view of the sky that he could see earlier. He felt choked, and the dreaded the thought of continuing. One day, he just put in his papers. An impulse that didn't go down well with his parents. "You are 30 and not married. Who will marry you now?" his mother asked, concerned. "Don't expect us to support you," his father said more sternly.

Sundar sighed. He would have liked to marry and have children too. Or not. He realised he felt no longing or regrets. Just total numbness. Like the impersonal vehicles on the road, his life too seemed to have sped past, leaving him standing, a mute spectator.

The living dead. Without even the accompanying horror.

He looked up from his small office and the greenery greeted him pleasantly, making him feel his gently beating heart. He leaned back on the chair and stared out, without any worries about missing deadlines or disgruntled clients. It had been a mere stroke of luck that he had chanced on this opportunity.

Would he get bored of this, ever? He didn't think so.

He took a longer walk back home, exploring the village a little more. There were two to three temples, a mosque and a church. There was a primary health centre and a school. There were some government offices as this was a bigger village catering to the neighbouring villages.

He started helping the children with their subjects in the evenings and mingled with the villagers, participating in their concerns, helping them find solutions, and giving a helping hand when he could. He felt at home here. He would sit by a pond or a field in the evenings looking at the far off hills and the floating clouds.

But his highlight, his anchor, was the greenery across the window. That is what held him here.

The sleepy village woke up one morning to an exciting news. Development was finally going to visit them... The government had decided to construct a flyover to speed up traffic movement. Sundar was the only one disturbed by it. The route hardly deserved one, but then, there were such grand plans for the future! Who was he to question it? Not even a cog in the wheel.

His disturbance turned to dismay as the wall to support the flyover started being raised. It cut across the road right opposite the cafe, blocking all view of the fields.

Sundar stood with his hands in his pockets. Just as his life seemed to open up, it seemed to have come to a standstill, hit a roadblock. Here he was, staring at a wall again!

The cafe picked up business. Indeed, traffic on the road increased and many travelers stopped by. But for Sundar, it seemed like his world had come to a standstill.

When he resigned and left for an unknown destination, the owner grumbled, "All these city-breds, can't take the village life for long. Think it's easy life here."

Sundar smiled sardonically, walking deeper into the villages, looking for greener pastures.