Those Jolly OZ's

My childhood realization of the world was full of sound and music. I was three when I was in the midst of jungles of Tata Nagar where every morning started with village folks (aboriginals) singing and passing by our street. Thereafter, farmers started their rendezvous to their farm lands singing and encouraging bullocks and oxen to march ahead . Then there were choirs from the street hawkers and vegetable vendors. Often, film promoters roamed the streets with blaring loud speakers during noon. There used to be lull in the afternoon. The evening earmarked themselves with children playing outdoor games with usual din and bustle. As soon as the Sun descended into the horizon, we used to hear howls of jackals followed by roars and growls of tigers, perhaps Royal Bengal Tigers. That was enough to put us into sleep.We grew up with noise and music. Almost all our festivals were creamed with devotional or film songs that too at a very high pitch so that it could reach our friends and adversaries residing some 1000 meter distant.  I myself with all the zeal started playing film songs at a very high decibel during my sister’s marriage in 1970. It was only when , my father chided me and allowed only soft music of classical instrumental at in-house volume that I understood the beauty of softness and delicacy of music.Another complex that adhered me was of avoiding elderly during my street exposure. I used to change route to avoid elderly gazes more so because I might have to pay respect and in return withstand volleys of questioning.
As soon as I retired from my active service, I left the campus of my employer, the Heavy Engineering Corporation. There was a reason. I used to find elderly retired people sitting on the roadside benches or culverts unnoticed. What puzzled and saddened me the most was that persons who were working hand to hand and shoulder to shoulder with them were also taking no notice of them. I hated HEC people for that.
After retirement, I blended in my habit to take long walks in the morning and in the evening to keep myself fit and fresh. There again, to my surprise, I found most people known to me not exchanging courtesy wishes as if that would break their rhythm. I thought that was perhaps the etiquettes of walking  and jogging.
My understanding of my world would have remained unchanged if I had not come out of my shell and visited Australia. I spent 6 months with my daughter at Baldivis which is around 40KM from Perth. My son-in-law who had been to Switzerland says that this place is more beautiful and scenic than S-land. I have no reasons to disagree.Here, everybody is unknown to me. However, when I take morning stroll or an afternoon walk or an evening roundabout, anyone who is crossing me or any jogger overtaking me never forgets to wish me as per the demand of the hours. Now, most of the time, I take initiative. Of late, children going to school have identified me as a regular walker and they also take pleasure in wishing me a good morning or simply a “Hello”. Their smiling virgin faces  make my day  beautiful.  One evening, our door was knocked. I found my next door neighbor waiting outside. He had come to inform us that during night hours, they would be having a barbeque(BBQ)  party and that that might be a bit noisy. He further said that if that was OK then they would go ahead as scheduled. I smiling replied that it was and wished  them a happy get- together. 

Swami Vivekaanand has said,"Mutual exchange of goodness is always value additive." I intend to blend these goodies with me and change my stance accordingly when I return to India.