I wonder where those phrases come from. I never find lonely deserted towns to be dusty. I never find villages sleepy. Instead I find them a lot more vibrant and fresh than any of the cities we live in. Going down a road that is used by cars, buses, trucks, bullock-carts and people alike, I found myself feeling things that I would never feel otherwise. I think traveling does this to most of us. There is a certain clarity of thoughts. I think that is one of the reasons why most Paulo Coelho books say that travel plays an important role in discovering oneself. The road to Santiago may or may not be a reality, but it is a dream journey. 
Acres and acres of green fields stretch out on both sides of the road that keeps twisting and turning through valleys. We travel alongside rivers that are meandering their way through the path of least resistance. Come to think of it, the river has carved out the very valley we are traveling in, it has that power, but yet it chooses to lengthen its journey, to sweep along the the valley like a sparkling snake, taking its time, savouring the extra twists and turns. Do you believe in omens? I do, I believe anything, and object, any incident can be interpreted to become some sign that relates to your life.
The occasional doggie, crossing the road completely brown in colour because of the monsoon. Where the population is dense enough, ( a cluster of houses), a couple of chickens scurrying along the side of the road. We passed many bullocks standing tall, tethered to their carts, at full height even taller than our car. Feels so weird, seeing there powerful creatures being tamed by humans who are plainly a lot weaker. Maybe it is a matter of convenience, you scratch my back, I scratch yours. You ensure I live a secure life, and I will serve you with all that I have.
And then comes the most pleasantly surprising sight. A group of at least 20 girls, dressed in the most funny uniform that I have seen, but nevertheless, obviously on their way to school. 20 girls! That must be the entire girl population of the village, all traipsing along the road, that doesn’t have a building in sight for at least 4-5 Kilometers. What does education mean to these people? Only one of these girls will probably see any city, or live a life that does not involve her village. Then why do you need an education? I realized with a shock how difficult it must be for the Government to plan out the education of a country where on one hand, you have students murdering other students with guns stolen from their parents, and on the other hand there are these 20 girls, walking up and down two hills and valleys to get to their school. What does a good education mean to me? It means I can call myself an Engineer, that I can apply my talents and hopefully enrich my lifestyle, and my standards of behavior and living, along with doing my bit for the society. It also means another obvious thing – A means of making money; of making a place for myself in the rat race, or rather, developing a career. But what does it means to these people. It is here that education takes its true meaning – Progress. They need to know how to handle a bank account, about how the world functions, about what rights they lawfully have. They need to know how to handle transactions. They are not thinking of careers, they are thinking of adapting and progressing.
All in all, I see nothing dusty or sleepy about villages. All I see, is a source a peace and calm, and a certain fresh approach to living. Is this what they call waking up and smelling the roses?
