My Own Little Town- III

The seventh of November was a day that was remarkable for me. My little town came alive for me. Its true, that we live in a beautiful paradox of a corner. The markets and the ancient poor were my fare for the morning while the evening led me into the embrace of the new-age aristocracy of money. This time, it was all about 'culture' with entirely different connotations. The 'culture' that has become a part of our lexicon only with the coming of the English.

This culture is all about protocol and the ways of the 'intelligentsia'. It's all about the outer lives and the secret lies of the glitterati. The whispers and tidbits of gossip that float between mouths eager to slander and ears eager to devour. This is the world of the fiercely social man and women that would rather make a grudging appearance than not be seen at the right place, in the right attire. There are the intentional social butterflies and the celebrity spouses. There are the eccentric artists and the millionaire brats. And they're all there, exchanging air kisses and pretentious compliments. People with opinions derived from their cushioned existence and their philosophies of change stemming from the Utopian worlds they believe exist somewhere.

Their shallow talk of boutiques on the Champs Élysées and the fabulous new chef they hired reeks of the money that they have allowed to define them. And they turn up in droves to plays and recitals. A lot of times the concern for the art that they are gathered to witness is entirely superficial and there's nothing deeper to their being there than the public appearance an invitees pass affords them.

But i am harsh, aren't i (though it's a lot of fun! There are so many things that you can say so beautifully when you're being passionately harsh!)?

These are the people that allow for the arts to flourish. Sometimes they have a genuine inkling of what they are doing and then there are those times when you have to stop and realise that there is, indeed, some passion for what they are doing. At this particular play, i saw them all. The ones that deserved the reverence from their peers and the nameless worship from the masses. They were all there. The shallow and the enlightened, the beautiful and the superficial. There was an aura of educated understanding about the place, but it cannot be denied that there were the fair share of celebrity-hungry commoners, who waited to be noticed by the glittering gods that they had created and with the knowledge that it would never happen. For though worlds intersect on a common plane, no one could bear to ackowledge it. One way or the other.

KarishmaModi

Recent Posts

MyReaders

Add Comment Comments