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Friday, 12 July 2013

..i narrate in lower case..

EP-1
my kid sister pinged me at 1am in the night... on one of the popular social media sites. (to admit sheepishly - i was also online..at that late hour.. bad for health..anyway).  We had not spoken for last six months, for no specific reason..Just that we did not speak.
so she sent a message which popped up on the screen - and i read this - 'arey !!! kya kar rahe hain.. ' then wrote again  without waiting - ' hum kal movie ja rahe hain..' ...'..uspe based hai..last leaf..'  ..' yaad hai apko.. '   (these kids are very fast on keywords..)

i recited the story to them. some 13 years back. I was a good narrator then. ( i may still be but  is not of much value..i earn my living through concrete and fit out work ).

Stories engage. They are all around us. One glance at them and they stick to the psyche ..for infinity..

extracts from - ..the last leaf.. by O'Henry   
'........Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting .......

......................................But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground............

...................The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."...................................

"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time."..........................................
"I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell." 

[courtsey - the literature network.]                                                                     
.you read it earlier. right!! or at least saw it in some book..which you never lifted to read.. but still you  know  this story... and it's in you ...throughout ..your routine..years passed off.. your silence on it ..
..stories are like that...

PS-1 : To respect the great author, to have actual enjoyment of this great literary work..  kindly read the full story..
PS-2 : the kid sister i mentioned, is a 19 year young CA aspirant. that day she wrote further " ..i rem it perfectly!! "...  And I.. the one who, in some fancy, thought he is still a lad,..  recorded that as a complement.

they call me Billa..