WE ARE MADE FROM STORIES




“Listen, and you will realize,

that we are made not from cells and atoms…

We are made from stories.”

Mia Cuoto

 

One of the books I loved reading the most was ‘Freedom at Midnight’ by the French writers, Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre. It was in the early-nineties and I was in my early-thirties. What I remember, even today, about reading this book, is its gripping narrative… It was so gripping, that I was reluctant to keep the book down!

And, now – in my mid-sixties - when I learnt about streaming of this book’s adaptation (on Sony LIV), I wanted to watch it desperately. So, last night, my wife and I sat till 1.30 in the night and watched all the seven episodes of Season 1. Let me tell you this: We never moved from our seats, even for a minute… It was so engaging, so gripping!

I have, always, marveled: “How could two Frenchmen capture this powerful drama of the Subcontinent in a book, with such brilliance?”

The storytelling at its best… That’s how I have ended up reasoning!





Yesterday, an old student of mine, Pooja, (after reading one of my posts) got in touch with me… It was nearly after thirty years. In our discussion, she spoke about her 14-year-old daughter, Meher, very fondly and with motherly pride. “Sir, she is a voracious reader and loves writing… Her teachers, always, make a special mention about her natural flow and style of writing… I want her to meet you.”

In the evening, yesterday, Pooja and Meher came over to my place… I  had kept several books ready for the young girl and shared with her how, when and why I started to write… How happy writing makes me… how good I feel about myself. I kept praising the shy, young Meher for her reading and writing habits… “Dear, please keep it up,” I encouraged.

Well, I may not be able to write powerful stories from world history the way Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre could do. But, I am able to see equally endearing stories from my own life… I stay tuned to those memories and images… and  capture them in my blogs…

Like this one…

I have to regularly walk through a stretch of path which is uneven, untarred. Even though the stretch is short, it is full of stones and potholes all along. I have to walk through this stretch cautiously, lest I may end up with twisted feet. Pleasantly, yesterday, I was in for a surprise:  the stretch was levelled and made walkable by a group of young volunteers who lived in the chawls around…

My mind went back to a time when I was, perhaps, of the same age as Meher – 14. It was our village in Mangalore… One of the inroads was very rough, untarred, uneven, with stones and potholes, all over. A couple of times, the local youth, including myself, had carried out what we would call in our local language – ‘shrama dhaana’  and made the path walkable, especially for the elderly during nights (Electricity hadn’t come to our village, yet).

One of the elderly uncles from the village was highly impressed with the shrama dhaana  of the village youth. This uncle returned late from work on his bicycle (a couple of drinks down!)… He had lost his control and hurt himself, a couple of times, navigating through the difficult stretch.

One day, this uncle placed in my hands five rupees (a big amount for a 14-year-old, more than fifty years ago!)… “Son, this is for you… You and your young friends please do something about this goddam road.”

Somehow, my local friends were unable to come together for a new shrama dhaana, and, somehow, this 14-year-old, having spent the five rupees already, was unable to return it to the elderly uncle…

“When are you going to do the work, son?”… I remember uncle asking me several times, after that. But, he would never ask me to return the money…

A month ago, when I had been to Mangalore to attend Mom’s funeral, I was remembering this elderly uncle, our shrama dhaana and the precious five-rupees! The road, now, had been beautifully built (by the Corporation) with solid concrete and bright lights…

Uncle, if he was alive, would have been so happy to whistle through this road… yes, peddling his bicycle… powered by a couple of drinks, you see…




“After nourishment, shelter and companionship,” says Philip Pullman, “stories are the thing we need most in life.”

Dear Meher, are you reading?

 

GERALD D’CUNHA

 

Pic’s: Pixabay

 

Video: WHY & WHAT

 

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