One goofy question invariably asked and answered during our College Days in the 1950s was:
"Who is the hero of XXXX? Justify your answer"
If XXXX stood for Odessy, it is trivial...Ulysses is the answer...so this silly question was never asked.
But if it is Iliad, then there are a plethora of answers...every jack-in-the-box starting from Achilles, Ajax, Hector to Ulysses and the Trojan Horse has a claim.
Julius Caesar (which we had in our B Sc (Hons) as a Shakespeare Drama) is said to be unique...the 'title-holder' dies half-way through the Drama (although his ghost prevails...but ghosts and ghostesses can't be held heroes and heroines). The favorite candidate was Brutus..."for he was an honorable man". If honor and honesty alone makes one a hero, every other fool incapable of fibbing has a claim. Mark Antony too has a claim because he made a counter-speech that turned tables against the Marxists of Rome. But he has another drama after him, Antony & Cleopatra,...but my reading is that Cleo has a better claim because she didn't drain a cup of poison like her umpteenth hubby...a cowardly thing to do...she hugged her pet snake to her voluptuous tits...and this, not because of her love for Antony but because her next in the queue, Augustus, didn't fall for her charms...his wife must have warned him of terrible consequences that would follow.
Anyway, if you wrote 'Ceasar' as the answer, you would fail. If it was 'Brutus', you would just about pass. But I wanted a 'Distinction' ('star' in old-time Bengal) in English, at least, and so I wrote; 'Cassius'. And by the way I did get my 'star' though I lost my moon. It is easy to call someone your hero but to justify it needs skills in maverickism. And I gave about half a dozen qualities of Cassius that mark him out as special. The first five were trivial and I forgot them but I still remember that last and final gem:
"Cassius had a sharing nature"...he didn't want to grab all the credit for killing Caesar, which any goonda can do in a dark alley for adequate supari, but he enlisted a couple of dozen shareholders, and passed on the entire blame to his friend Brutus whom he allowed to administer the coup de grace...not only sharing but also sacrificing the distinction of being the first or the last author.
Ramayan is trivial as far as this question of heroism goes...Lord Raam is the quintessential hero, although some Bengali counter-culturists would cite Manthara as the real hero since Ramayan would be as tasteless as 'bread without butter' without her.
Mahabharat reeks of heroes. Many say Yudhistir, despite all his faults. Some say Draupadi, particularly Bengali ladies:
See e.g.:
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1 comments:
- wanderlust said...
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Sir, I am unaware of a process that decides the sex of the Hilsa fish.
The first few lines gave a premonition of a man's deep seated grudge against the other clan and I felt urged to playrole Phulan devi in spite of being a "bhaat e mach e bangali draupadi" (fish and rice and bengali and draupadi) by ethnicity.
I was sadly mistaken. Humour and quality wit has surpassed all boundaries of the man-woman empowerment conflict. I am short of words to appreciate this blog.
Would love to read more.
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But my vote goes to Kuntijee. Because she inculcated the sharing nature in her kids ;-)
One of the reasons I loved IIT KGP was that students there always had this sharing nature...after they passed their first year without getting booted out.
I too wanted to inculcate this sharing nature in my only son. This was because of an incident that turned my spiritual bowels:
My neighbor there were a working couple with two kids, the younger one my son's age. So, they were very happy to leave their younger kid in our home so he could play with my son with all his toys, bats and balls, and share his idli-dosa tiffin; which was fine with me since their kid was cute and bright. When my son was admitted to St Agnes School and in his Nursery Class, he was lisping some nice nursery rhymes new to me...I only knew: "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" which my father taught me while we were sleeping under the starlit skies of our sea-side village Muthukur.
So, I took my pen and paper and asked him to recite all the rhymes he learned in the good old convent. We were then in our verandah; seeing us, my son's neighbor-classmate ran into our home and stood beside my son, both singing in concert, with actions, like lifting their two hands and placing them on their shoulders and taking them away while reciting:
"Two little dicky birds..."
Then my neighbourani happened to come out on to her verandah combing her sumptuous hair like in that favorite Hindi Movie song of Prof RSS about his neighbor going through a similar drill:
http://www.hindigeetmala.com/song/ghar_se_nikalate_hii_kuchh.htm
And saw with her own eyes her darling son sharing his rhymes with mine and me too...and she threw away her comb and let her hair fly like Draupadiji, ran out and opened her gate, ran down the main road, opened our gate, entered with lightning speed despite her ample figure, caught her son by his shoulder and dragged him home, all the while trying to smile at me saying: "It is time for his bath", and shutting her son's mouth when he tried to protest: "You gave me my bath ten minutes back, no?"
Upon which I decided to train my son to share all he has with his friends despite everything. This training helped him in his life...everyone loves him as long as they are not compelled to reciprocate...it became his second nature...particularly in sharing blame...
And I am now training his daughter Ishani (all of 2.5) to share whatever she has in her hands. Whenever she ambles into our bedroom with a bowl of grapes, pakoras, cashew nuts and the like that her mom gave her, I ask her:
"Won't you please give me one?"
Upon which she demurely places one pakora piece in my hand. And I smile and give it back to her saying:
"I can't eat it, you know! I don't have teeth"
Upon which she shows off the bright row of all her milk-teeth, saying:
"But I do have, see!!!"
This has become as regular a routine as my praising her beauty and brains.
But yesterday she came in with a bowl of Cadbury Gems with a couple of tears swelling in her eyes. I comforted her with an embrace and asked what is the matter. And she said:
"Tinkoo came in while I was eating gems. And I recalled your lesson to me to share whatever I have with my friends. And gave him one gem"
And I said: "Wonderful!, Wonderful!! Wonderful!!!"
But she moaned:
"What Wonderful? He ATE it!!! hoon...hoon...hoon..."
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Moral
"Before offering to share with others what you have, do factor into account the likelihood that they indeed may accept your offer shamelessly"
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