Skip to main content

When the ragged requited his passion...

I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.

There were streaking sparks from the distant star that were scorching the narrow roads of the metropolis. I was reclined in the four-wheeled luxury skimming over a glossy magazine with skinny models teething in glamour. There was also this favourite melancholy of mine that was shrilling the juke box that I had installed into my car. 

As I passed by a pawn-strewn road flooded with scorchy rays, I happened to notice a middle-aged man who was in ragged attire (a mud-stocked banniyan and a lungi tied up to his thighs) squatting on to a stone. He had his face covered with a beard unshaven for a few days and brown, unkempt mane that fell over his forehead. 

Yet I noticed something that was so attractive about him. He was too concentrated onto something he was doing to even notice anything that was happening around him, the sun drinking away his body-moisture, him sweating profusely and his sweat tingling on to the chunk of metal he was so passionately beating at. 

Yes, he was hammering a chunk of metal and bringing it to a perfect shape. He was hammering hard onto it, his eyes keen on the piece of metal. To him, the piece of metal was his canvas and he was the Picasso unspoken of. 

He tilted his head with an unstrained passion and as he plummeted the hammer onto the metal for the last time, his ashen beard gave way to a streak of spring. His smile let me know that he had streaked his canvas in mastery.

As I looked at the passion that was invigourating in him on whatever he was supposed to accomplish for bagging his square meal for the day, I was truly inspired. Until then, I never knew that a man could hold so much love for his profession, how much ever trivial it might be, that he never cared about the burning heat, the dusty roads, the pawn-spits near by.

He brought into me a drive to chase my passion and make it my profession. I realised from him that if we happen to love whatever we do, we shall never mind the inadequacies that qualm us with feelings of failure or regret.

For when we drive, be it only bullock carts, into our favourite untrodden path, we shall reach our desired destination in life.  The ragged man who was the Picasso unspoken of, is literally and virtuously, a man of steel and he shall be my role model.

Comments

  1. Good one, inspiring indeed. Chase the passion and make it your profession.. Well said yar.. Keep writing....

    ReplyDelete
  2. I never knew that u could tranformavery ordinary person to a real hero gayathree. Beautiful.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Speak your mind

Popular posts from this blog

FOUND

                                          CHAPTER 1 It was one of those days of monotony that Maureen had to spend. Sitting outside the office cabin of her boss, answering the ever- ringing phones, charting out schedules for his day, making arrangements for client meetings and lunch calls and such other things a secretary is paid to do. It was the eve of her first year of wedding anniversary and also the day when she is about to get paid for the month long mixed bag of work she had executed so perfectly. But her boss was quite rigid and insensitive. He never got to recognize the quality with which she executed her work. Long past eight, she returned home with her wallet full of fresh cash and a huge box of assorted gifts for her husband, whom she had been yearning to see. She had already missed the lunch date for that day, they had planned the previous day, because of her ever-complaining boss. As she walked into the hall, she saw the telly set blaring with stoma

To share...

As I was walking on the narrow pavements flooded with rain water near my college, I saw an old man with a heavily rimmed, almost broken pair of glasses just sticking to his nose. He was very feeble and exhausted of all spirit. He wore a tattered and almost brown dhoti and was barefoot, leaning on a stick. He sat on one corner and started to open his packet of food that he had luckily earnt for the day.  His hands terribly shook when he unwound the packet and by the time he opened it, half the food was spilt on the ground and he had just a bare minimum to fill his stomach with. He laid the packet slowly on the ground and started to eat it. Just as he was beginning to eat, there was a stray dog beside him lying on the hard floor. It seemed to be recently stoned in a terrible way, that it was even unable to move, it kept looking at his packet of food with yearning eyes. The old man looked at the dog, he stared at it quietly for a while, and then to my surprise, his fa

Arching wings

   The little one spread wings, On it's day which was dark, but ruled the sky after fall. Image:  Internet