the knowledge of the world that you have acquired and become as ignorant as a child;
then you shall attain to the divine wisdom.
true work of art is one the memory of which lingers in our minds long after we have ceased to watch it. Quite a lot of excellent works of art or creativity fail to become popular or acquire the recognition they richly deserve. They fail to figure on the popularity biz. However much we want try to get them, at a later time, they may not be available even for our perusal. We have only to remain satisfied that we are lucky to come across and from time to time revive our memories of the excellent pieces of art.
During the late eighties or early nineties of the last century, Doordarshan beamed a televised version of a short story ‘Birthday’. Details of those who created it cannot be given. I can only offer my lofty praises to those who brought it to the viewers.
A poor school teacher in pre-independence days, takes his son to the birthday party of his headmaster’s son. The headmaster being a European, celebrates the occasion in the Western style in all grandeur and pomp. The boy is dressed up gaudily. People sing and dance merrily. Colourful balloons are burst, candles are blown out and a cake is cut. Gifts wrapped in attractive colour paper pour out. Rare delicacies are served. In all his innocence, the teacher’s son is enraptured by the event. He pesters his parents as to when his birthdaywouldbecelebrated.Theyarenotrichenoughtoaffordsuch celebrations, but they cannot suppress their only son’s enthusiasm. Only to pacify him, they set a day for the celebration.
After a long impatient wait, at last, the day arrives. The poor father stretches all his meagre means to fulfil his son’s desire. On the appointed day, the boy is dressed up in typical traditional Indian style, with Tilak on his forehead and an Indian cap on his head. He is taken to a temple and a special pooja is performed seeking God’s blessings for the boy. Then the parents take him to a group of hapless poor people and make him distribute grain among them.
On returning home, the boy asks his parents when the birthday celebration is going to start and the parents tell him that the celebration is already over. The boy cries bitterly in terrible disappointment for he has not had any of the ostentation of the headmaster’s son’s birthday.
Eventually the boy grows up to become a highly placed officer with a fashionable wife, luxurious bungalow and assured comfortable living. Reminiscing his boyhood days of poverty, he narrates his birthday experience to his son.
On his son’s birthday, after the usual celebration he finds his son loading the car with a number of bags. He wonders what it is all about. On the way, the boy orders the car to be stopped at a place. As the father waits for him, while verifying his bank passbook, the boy goes to the beggars under the banyan tree and distributes the grain in the bags he has brought with him.
Our rich culture is like a perennial river. No doubt, it has its ups and downs, affluent and lean periods. We, sometimes, in our ignorance fear that it is fading out. No, it isn’t, it always flourishes and regenerates itself in ever resplendent brilliance.
If winter comes, can spring be far behind? ~ P.B.Shelley ~