It was a typical tropical summer day in Perinjanam, the nondescript yet 'Gulf impacted' Village on the western sea coast of Trichur. It was early nintees and the morning Sunshine of February was little less warm than usual.
A few weeks more to go before the SSLC exams starts, and I had just came out of my tuition class. Oxford college was run on the first floor of an old cottage , the wooden floors often cracking under the feet as you walked on it. (Cant forget the beloved and most respected Vasudevan Master in his spotless white khadi shirt and Mundu as spotless as his English Grammer, walking in with a miltary discipline and a determination that completely defeated his age. .)
By the side of the cottage we had our bicycle parking area. A private property routinely encroached by us as we didn't have any other place to keep our 'invaluable' bicycles.
I had to rush, as I have only 45 minutes to reach my school on the sea cost, one Km away. I hurriedly climbed on to my 'BSA SLR' bicycle, which was my priced companion for the previous few months after Mom bought it for me after making repeated demands and strikes.
Hardly I moved on pedling, and I couldn't help noticing a small crowd by the side of an old building by the road side. Curious, i got down from the bike and peeped in..
Here was this man, a thin frame but in the familiar khadi kurta and and with long hair, was the center of attention of those few onlookers. He had typical look of a Bujji ( a self styled intellectual) and could easily fit into the images of an emerging artist or a Shatrya Sahiytya Parishad member or even a lost soul from communist thinking class. As I moved in closer I could hear him taking about the colour dyes that can be extracted from nature..Initially I took him for a street side vendor of dyes typically satrting his day with tricks; But there was this air of him that made him different, and soon I realized he was trying to put across a message about using things from nature and to reject anything artificial . He tried to convey it through the use of natural extracts as dyes.
As the crowd tried to figure out what he was up to, he took out a brush and some leaves from his bags, made the leaves into pulps and also used some plant roots , and he made 3-4 colors from that..
Some in the crowd started moving away as they didn't find any exciting magic happening as they had expected from a stranger of his appearance , a few who could follow his message kept their eyes glued on his actions.
I was interested,.and decided to wait till he completes his work of art. In no time he cleaned a small part of the white wall of that old building, he started drawing a circle ( a perfect one with bare hand which told me immediately that he is an expert in whateve he was about to do) and then in no time there was a small pience of a natural landscape built into it.
It was a good picture considering the little amount of time he took and that he used fingers as his brush for most of the painting.. And in the next minute he said thanks to every one and packed his bags and started walking...The crowd disappeared wondering about the man and his whereabouts.Not very sure of his intentions and definitely not sure of why he did it and how he benefited.
In all probabiolity I felt, he was someone who had a mission of his own, One of those many a nomadic souls whose desire for intelligent living and penchant for interactive relationship vis a vis with the world. Some one who had just not a intrinsic thought process but who is passionate about sharing with others and spreading his message..
I had to hurry to the school as I was school leader and had to be present for the school assembly in time. With my dependable BSA SLR with me, I could beat the buses moving at 40 km per hour.
A few months passed and I had almost forgotten about this man and his art.It was one of those week ends again and I was on my routine trip to the film theater ten km away. Sitting in the bus and carelessly glancing at the passers by, suddenly some thing struck my eyes, It was so familiar, but I did not have a second chance to look at it as the bus was speeding along. But I had a feeling that whatever I saw, I had seen before...I kept looking outside in hope that I will see that again...
And as the bus stopped in the nest stop, I could see it, It was the same circle and same colors, the picture was different though, the mysterious stranger had made his presence here as well.As the bus traveled all the way to my destination I could see many instances of his works all along..All left on old buildings on a fading back ground. However one couldn't miss it as it got repeated again and again..
I was more interested and in my later travels to different parts along a 150 km strech I had seen it repeated ..over and over.. The unidentified painter had left his finger prints everywhere, His paintings stood witness to it.
I am sure he name was not mentioned in any of local news papers, Perhaps he was left un noticed, He was one of those many unique literally -off the track- sort of souls, who just happens to be here , yet unheard off. But his kind exist every where, in which ever corner of the world, we have them.. un noticed and never observed, but they always lived..
One may wonder what motivates them to go with a passion , which may not be rewarding monitairlly but instead exhaust one's enrgy and resources. But the desire to chart out a new course keeps them going out of the way.
After some 10 years I tried to see if the same paintings are still there. But as expected the old buildings itself were no more there and, all have been replaced with modern buildings..Yet one or two still stands , still bearing his art work on it..
History would never reckon him, neither folklores would have his story to tell, Yet the Nomadic wanderer who went on a mission mesmerizes me even now, for I knew he existed, but will never know who he was.
His story for me , was a proof of human desire to think, invent and to communicate his thoughts. A proof of intelligent life and that is what differentiate man from men.. :-)
PS: What happened to my blue BSA SLR :
It stayed with me for 2-3 years more, and together we had been to many more films and many times to the market and some times to the toddy bars !!!
