A Tiny Adventure

Have you experienced any storms of late? The kind that stir you up and change or reinforce your beliefs?

I haven’t, until recently. Earlier these storms used to come ever so often, by reading a book about a guy who flew planes, by meeting a meteor collector or sometimes by just surviving. But in the past few years these inspirations have hardly crossed the path of my life, or maybe they did and I chose to ignore them, because I know how many sleepless nights the search for meaning of your existence can cause.

So when I went to Austin to attend an extravagant event(that’s not my travel type, I was just looking for a new experience),  I cringed at the wastefulness and consumerism of the country I’m currently residing in .

After the disappointing event that I had attended, when I took the road for the Airbnb it felt good. It felt good because the Airbnb was a tiny home in the countryside. I was ready to be at peace, away from the city. But what followed was a storm. A storm that re-stirred in me, depending on which side of the grass you are standing on, you would call my demons or my calling.

But before meeting this storm barefoot to barefoot, let me tell you about the tiny house that I was staying in. On the way from Austin to San Marcos, on the red roof of a warehouse, you will see a sign called Texas Tiny Houses. The moment you take the road heading to this place, you are in a different world. You will see a lot of “old ” here. There are old trees, old scrap metal, old wooden doors, old cabins , old trailers.  The house I stayed in is called Vicky Too(I do not know the roots of the name).  The paint looked chipped from the outside. I knew the place was not going to be luxurious but lets say I hadn’t seen something like this in USA before. A cat was waiting for me to open the door. As I entered the lock code, it creaked open. The house was entirely wooden, I instantly got the warm cozy feeling of hugging a tree. The place looked old but it was clean. I saw the crooked planks in the wooden cabinet and also the beautiful knob that secured it. I saw the old looking curtains that let the sunlight pass easily through the windows. The sunlight fell on a noisy bed which was next to a wooden ladder . The wooden ladder led to a loft. The loft had a mattress with “your good nights sleep”  kind  of a feel to it.  Next to the bed there was a tiny circular window. At night I could see the spider resting on it and the forest beyond. There was also a dark green wooden desk, the kind that turns a penholder into a writer.

Next morning when I left that place, I wanted to see who owned the place. I messaged my Airbnb host. My Airbnb host greeted us with a warm smile and accompanying her, was her baby chicken, who was convinced that it was a falcon and was flying around. She took me to the man who owned the place. On the way to him I learned that he not only owned the place, but  he made the place, like wood by wood, with his own hands. He was also the part of national door knob association (yes, such a thing exists)  and his collection was beautiful.

So now,  ready to meet the storm?

A man came out from the warehouse. He had a short stature, grey hair, long beard and penetrating eyes. To me he looked like the forest wizard from Lord of the Rings.

And then he started talking. In those 15 mins, that I listened to Darby, I learned that he had made the homes himself from salvaged materials, that he grew his own food, that after a personal tragedy he started digging the earth and made a beautiful cave out of it. He spoke of his dislike of the modern ways. He didn’t like how we are destroying our planet. He spoke of saving the environment and creating less waste. He spoke of how smart phones  are making dumb humans. In the ocean of consumerism, I had stumbled upon an island of sustainability.  He spoke of preserving our cultural roots and moving away from homogeneity. We stood there for 15 -20 mins listening, but to me it felt like an eternity had passed and I was listening to a great orator. Finally he told me, you have a beautiful country, don’t let it become like ours. I told him, it hasn’t , yet. For I know that there is a great cultural chaos that India boasts of, but I also realize that  it ,with the speed of a bullet train is adopting the consumeristic mentality. But then there is hope, for not just  this country or that country, but for the entire world, as long as people like Darby walk on it barefoot.

Since returning from there my tryst with sleepless nights has restarted. I have become more aware of the unsustainable practices that were never a part of my lifestyle in India but here I follow them without a thought, because that seems to be the “norm”. Coffee cups, tissues , kitchen towels and hoards of grocery bags are a few that I have identified. For now, being Captain Planet seems a little infeasible so I’m going to focus on using a cloth napkin and a ceramic cup.

Have you met any storms of late?

Link to the Airbnb I stayed in : Tiny Texas Houses

Link to Darby’s Website : Tiny Texas Houses