Wednesday, 23 July 2014

What drives us?

 
There were thousands of them – all driven by an insane force which urged them on, against all odds, to move from one place to another.
 
(Photo courtesy: Google Images)

The National Geographic channel was showing the Great Wildebeest Migration in Africa on TV. It informed that more than a million East African blue Wildebeest, also called the Gnu, migrate from the Serengeti plains to the hills of Kenya’s Masai Mara in search of rain-ripened grass. Many such documentaries show wildebeest being eaten by crocodiles while crossing rivers or drowning in the attempt. They move forward in a frenzied herd racing and crossing all barriers. Their determination is awe-inspiring.

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“Do you know that the Artic Tern migrates from the North Pole to the South Pole?” a child from primary school asked me.

Children have strange ideas sometimes so I googled for the facts.
Yes, it was true.
Artic Terns do migrate from Pole to Pole!

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In the hills of northern India, there are several temples which are most holy places for pilgrimage. Many people take the difficult route every year and join crowds which climb steep hills chanting the name of god. We hear reports of landslides and stampedes at these holy places. These reports, however, do not deter the faithful who are set on reaching up to the divine to express their strong faith.

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“It is good that you are not in this train” said my husband this morning.

He was calling from a tightly-packed local train bound for Mumbai city.

Our friends and relatives make this journey daily. While we studied and worked in Mumbai, we too, waited at the Vasai station for the train, got ready to jump in as we spotted the train arrive from a distance, tried to get a foothold into the moving train before it halted, then checked whether we have landed in one piece along with our belongings. It was quite a feat at that time and we had become used to it. My friends and I complained about the mad rush hours at the station but we all took the same train again the next day.
We struggled and survived.

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There seems to be an invisible force that drives us, living things, to take risks and perform dangerous acts.

Dylan Thomas, a poet, wrote:

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees

Is my destroyer.

And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose

My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
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