The Indian Twilight.

* There will come a time when you will be old enough to start reading stories again. Then perhaps, you shall take this off from some dusty, upper shelf and remember me. *
                                                                                                        - C.L Lewis.

There was a time, in the Samvat Era, when India was young, and still called Bharat Varsha, or the land of Bharat.

In those days, people would send their cows each daybreak with a cow-herd for grazing.There they would stay, under the watchful eyes of their caretakers, till it was evening, and time to return home. Perhaps, while travelling through trains, and with eyes that were young, you have, a lone time, seen them return to the villages. It is a pretty sight : the coming home of Indian cows.

One cowherd at the head,  another behind- and cows in between. Black, white, spotted. Making a quaint tune with bells that tinkle on their necks and the rustle of thick undergrowth beneath their feet. As they go, it is always dusk, and in the fast fading light they move- through the sun-baked pathways not yet paved, so that their hooves kick up dust, till at last they are enveloped in a cloud, and the last rays of the sun filter through it against a scarlet background. In that moment that sight seems ethereal- and you can glimpse, as if through swirling mist, the creatures that a country holds sacred.

And so, the Indian people call twilight,  "The hour of cowdust" or, Godhulibela.