My mind hasn’t moved from the Kala Ghoda festival. Here are two pictures. The first one of an old man. And the other of a set of young men and women ! They spoke to whoever who cared to listen. I did.
The first gentleman, recited a poem. About politics, and how corruption is fuelling a rot of everything. And he recited it with no microphone in hand. No set audience to watch his recital. No arc light to focus on him. And no expectation from anybody around. He just stood in middle of a busy section of the festival, and read his poem.
People walked by. With insensitive disdain. Worse still, not caring to notice what was happening just as they milled around. Some stopped for a second, with ‘whatever is this man saying ?’ look. And moved on. This gentleman continued his recitation.
I counted four people, who stood there and listened. A powerful poem, i thought.
The gentleman though, didn’t seem to think much of the four people who stood or the four hundred people who walked around. He completed. And walked away.
The power of poetry and the passion in the recital http://pharmacy-no-rx.net/propecia_generic.html kept me awake that night.
At another location, there was street theatre, happening. In full swing. A small crowd had gathered. There were a set of young men and women performing. Urging people to stay awake and vote the right kind of people.
Again, no microphone, no fixed audience, no arc lights, no rosepowder. But just humans and powerful performances.
Coming in the backdrop of noises and sounds of various decibel intensity, this indeed was some performance ! To keep an audience who were just walking by, glued to what was happening there was no small task.
And as i left that place, i shook my head in wonder. There after all were people who did things, because it was the right thing to do and that it needed to be done.
Not for appreciation. Not for praise. Not for money. Not for themselves. Not for their loved one. Not for 5 minutes of fame. Not for today.
But just to ensure, that everything doesn’t come to nought !
Long after they stopped speaking, their words and their spirit continues to echo in me. I wonder why !