Monsoon Clouds

 Lalit Shastri

In my formative years, I was but a third-grader, and my elder brother had a lead on me by a couple of classes. Our father, affectionately known as "Babuji," was a firm believer in discipline. His demanding career claimed most of his week, often spilling over into our precious weekends. It was on one rare Sunday that Babuji ventured off to his office, leaving us behind.

In his absence, our steadfast domestic help, Puran, wielded his powers of persuasion to convince my brother and me to indulge in a midday matinee at the nearby cinema. The film was scheduled from noon to 3 pm, and, to our surprise, we found Babuji anxiously pacing the front-verandah upon our return. As I, who was a few steps ahead of my brother, approached him, he cut to the chase, demanding to know our whereabouts. Without a moment's hesitation, I stammered, "Babuji, we went to watch a film."

Initial anger gripped Babuji as he probed further, "Which film?" My response, "Savan ki Ghata" (Monsoon clouds), met with swift and adequate reprimand. With authority, he declared, "I forbid you from watching such C-grade films." Overwhelmed, I retreated to my room, with tears in my eyes. Babuji, ever the loving father, soon approached me with tenderness and reassurance. He clarified that he didn't oppose us watching films but simply yearned for us to appreciate the finest cinematic creations.

From that day on, my brother and I embraced a new approach. We meticulously researched and handpicked exceptional films, such as "Lawrence of Arabia," "Patton," "My Fair Lady" and "Where Eagles Dare," each celebrated for their multitude of Academy Awards. With Babuji's permission, we embarked on these cinematic adventures, and occasionally, he joined us.

Babuji

Babuji, a polymath, possessed expertise in linguistics, poetry, Sanskrit scholarship, and a profound knowledge of ancient Indian history, culture, and philosophy. He remained steadfast in his determination to provide us with the best possible exposure. He ensured we attended national festivals like the Tansen Samaroh in Gwalior, where music greats graced the stage, the National Kalidas Festival in Ujjain, dedicated to classical Sanskrit theater, fine art, and scholarly discussions in homage to Kalidas, one of history's greatest poets. 

The Tagore Centenary and Ustad Alauddin Khan Centenary celebrations in Bhopal during the 1960s, when I was very young, etched a lasting impression. I had the privilege of attending a live concert by the sitar maestro Pandit Ravi Shankar at the open-air theater of Ravindra Bhawan in Bhopal in 1962. The experience, seated under the stars, was utterly mesmerizing. Pandit Ravi Shankar was in Bhopal to honor the birth Centenary of his Guru, Ustad Allauddin Khan. With the legendary Ustad Allauddin Khan gracing the stage, the event became historic, and I was spellbound. 

This marked the inception of our shared commitment to learn and pursue excellence in every facet of life.

This cherished memory from my childhood serves as a poignant reminder that life's journey is a quest for excellence, and it all began with a lesson from a loving father.

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