Gandhi Bazaar.... The sight of which reminds me of a village fair..... sorts.
Navarathri.... begins this weekend... dolls were everywhere. Dolls (usually clay ones) are kept during those nine days. Our house does not follow the practise... but we are often invited.... by relatives.. and friends to visit their places.
Gandhi Bazaar... the main road...and D.V.G. Road of which was lighted..... with neon bulbs.... stringed.... together.... around trees... buildings.... shops..... It was beautiful. Quite some time had passed.... since i last paid it a visit. .
Having savoured kadabu at Roti Ghar.... we strolled..... around. Walking around D.V.G Road.... we stopped at many places...... you know... to window-shop.
A boy was selling these colourful whistles. Children love these.... it produces a shrill sound when air is blown into it. I bought one..... planning to give it to my neice (the fact that the same would be broken into pieces within minutes is another story). The boy selling them could not have been more than 10 years old. Another reason which made me buy it.... was the boy. He had a forlorn look on his face..... was carrying this huge basket full of these multi-coloured whistles.
After having bought it..... the whistle automatically... went to my mouth.... and without my knowledge.... a shrill..... vveeeeeeee was produced..... much to the astonishment of others. Playing the whistle.... through-out the length of the street.... i did draw.... attention to myself.... who would imagine... a 20 year-old.... entertaining herself.... with a silly instrument.
Obviously, the whistle is of cheap plastic.. and it leaves... this plasticy taste in the mouth. But... who cares.... i was happy.
Such small, insignificent moments bring so much joy to the heart. Not satisfied.... i started playing it again...this morning, untill i was told not to... by a cousin.
On second thoughts.... i guess it'll not reach the hands of the person... in whose respect it was bought!!
3 comments:
Navraatri is such a special occasion for us. Mom used to go nuts with keeping dolls during this time. We used to dedicate an entire bedroom full of roads (of soft sand specially brought in from Chennai), cars, petrol stations, circus. Once we even made Ramayana scenes. Oh man....those were the days indeed.
Thanks for bringing back those images.
thank you for the appreciation...
so u got u'r training as an artist... at your home.... a nice environment indeed!!
My mother is an artist par excellence. It is a shame she got tangled up with a beast called 'Life'. She is a singer, a craftswoman, an excellent chef and above all - the most amazing human I have met in my entire life. Nothing feels me with more pride than to call her my mother. And yes. Whatever little I attempt to do today is a gift from amma.
I am just a reflection of her soul.
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