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The worst thing that happened to me in my long life was the advent of the TV in our Living Room; and the best thing, the arrival of Blogger in my Bedroom.
So, I spend all my days and nights in my bedroom.
Among the many good things of life that TV killed like chit-chat, plain and simple gossip, reading habit, outdoor games and movie-going, the goose that lay so many golden eggs that it killed is the Imagination, particularly of children who have it in plenty...they get used to depending other peoples' imagination.
In my seaside Village, Muthukur, in the early 1950s, there was no permanent movie theater (cinema hall in Englishman's English). But once in a while, a 'Touring Talkies' used to pitch its tent in an open ground that belonged to nobody and projected old films for a couple of months before moving to another village. The news that the tent was going up spread like wildfire in the surrounding villages and it was picnic time for the farmers and their families. They used to throng to the Floor (sandy, where you take your mat, spread it and sit or lie down and jump up when your favorite star arrives on the silver screen and whistle and dance) whose entry fee was Rs 0.25 only. There was a wooden Gallery (Rs 0.50) farthest from the screen where more affluent folks gathered. And midway there were a couple of rows of chairs (broken) for the genteel folks who were Invitees that donated whatever they wished above Rs 1.00.
The Ticket Counter (a ramshackle booth with a pigeon hole) used to open an hour before the start of the film and so there were huge crowds that gathered in front of it from two hours before. There was no sense of queues and it was free for all, and might was right. I was then a stripling, thin and short, and I used to be employed by my seniors as a head-swimmer...they would give me a leg-up and ask me to swim over the heads of peasants and rustics and reach the window and get them their tickets...the sweetener being a cylindrical packet of strong peppermints (with holes).
The entire exercise was fun for all...
Talking of Imagination, I recall a whole night Kojagiri (sharat-purnima) Picnic by our entire physics department of about 60 (students and professors and technical staff and their families) in the Vizagh Beach around 1960. Food was prepared then and there in huge vessels and cauldrons and served in leaf-plates, after which there were impromptu dramas.
The stage was a high ground on the sandy beach...no doors or screens. Two boys stood on either side of the stage in front of it and, when they sat down, it meant the screen had fallen, and when they got up it meant the screen got lifted and the players were ready to act. The scenes were from the Mahabharat and everyone was welcome to act with his partners...the whole night was there to spend.
When it was the ultimate duel between Bhim and Duryodhan, they needed maces which were supplied by their supporters in the form of two branches of wayside saplings. The duel wasn't important but the 'lines' before the fight were...they adlibbed and made up their dialogues on the spot with contributions from the audience in the form of cheers and jeers.
When it was the Swayamvar of Draupadi, a huge degchi (cooking pan) was brought in and filled with sea-water in which a fish had to be put. Since it was difficult to fish in the night, a sumptuous crab was dug up from its hole. The bow and arrow of Arjun were made up of two perpendicular branches of cashew trees. And for Draupadi, I was chosen because of my slimness, and a towel was spread over my head that served as her veil. I didn't have too many lines, but Arjun and Karn did have several combative speeches.
For the garland I had to drape over the neck of Arjun finally, someone collected unused leaves (from the leaf-plates) and stitched them together somehow...
The whole thing was an exercise in fantasy and some impromptu poetry was memorable. Half a century later, I recall the entire thing as if it was yesterday.
Around 1985, a year after a Color TV set arrived in my Hall in Qrs C1-97 at IIT KGP, we had an elderly couple visiting us for four days on their way back to Delhi from a marriage at Balasore in Orissa. The gent was an uncle of my wife and so I was very cordial to the couple. It turned out that I didn't have to engage them since they were glued to the TV whenever it telecast any, absolutely any, program. Remember that there was only 1 channel then, the Doordarshan, and most of the time it was 'educational' to students, ladies and farmers (Krishidarshan). They gobbled them all. When it got shut down in the mornings, they used to play caroms with my 4-year-old son. And while leaving, they urged us to return their visit to their place in Delhi...again and again, saying that they had a better Color TV set. And he gave me his card.
It so happened that after a month of their visit to KGP, I was in Delhi on an official visit for four days and was staying at the Nalanda Guest House at IIT Delhi. The day before I was scheduled to leave, I rang up the gent and he invited me grudgingly at noon to their 4th floor apartment (no lift) the next day which happened to be a Sunday.
I reached their place, hunting and poking for their residence, and walked up and knocked on their door. It opened slightly and I was asked into their Hall which was full of folks sitting on the floor in front of their CTV...a cricket match was going on. My host didn't bother to show me a seat and so I squeezed in amid the (renting?) crowd on the floor.
After ten minutes of watching the damn thing, I got up, took leave of my host and walked down...the chap didn't even have the courtesy of escorting me to their door.
After landing back at my place in KGP, I collared my wife and asked her what was the matter with her uncle. And she blurted out:
"He is known in our family circles as Chitti Kasu Mama"
Citti Kasu means:
"Small Change"
...Posted by Ishani
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