Holy and organic

My childhood spent about five decades ago
At my parents’ place then; how did the house show?
We lived in a house of stone walls, gaps mud-fed,
Mud plastered, and mud-painted: half white and half red

The floor, too, was mud and cow-dung coated,
Wall edges at floors were with red mud, mud-red!
White lime was obtained from around the rivulet far-flung;
A hut-house perfect on a hilltop but never ever sung!

A type of grass covered the house for roofing,
Ignored stood the dampness and termite-proofing,
No glass then, no imported material,
No good workmanship as well and everything surreal

There were no house drains
And yet it wasn’t a problem in times of rains
As most of the storm-waters percolated into the ground
Or trickled down on the slopes to the streams around!

The plastic and cement used therein were none or scanty
While availability of bamboo and timber were a plenty;
It was a “giving-back” to the mother earth in the state that we took
And a way forward to keep her organic in essence and outlook!