To turn into stone

Black statues, beautifully made to match original people are an artists delight. It is equally amazing for the onlooker, to see metals or stones carved into forms of real people. Admiration for the artist is writ all over the onlookers face and the thought that the person who has faded away into eternity, will still be a part of their lives is a relief. It is a relief only till statues are few. When one comes across a replica of any person at every crossroad, what do you do? Mayawati is the person who comes to mind every time we say statue. The obsession to live on forever has taken away the sense of compassion that exists in a human being.


I for one do not want to be turned into stone, for the simple reason, that I don't want birds sitting over my head and painting my face in streaks of white!! To live on forever, is every creator's dream. One wants to live on in the minds of people and be remembered even after they are gone. But, there surely are other ways of becoming immortal. One doesn’t have to be turned into stone to live on for eternity, because for all you know, the statue might be brought down by angry crowds. Haven’t we as an international community witnessed statues of Stalin, Saddam Hussein, Hitler and a few other men/women being brought to dust!! I


My mind however, has often floated on a cloud and seen myself being turned into stone. I imagine myself as a statue and what do I find! A lonely sentinel, standing tall amongst heavy traffic with cars, trucks, two wheelers etc coughing up smoke and pollution at it’s worst best. A family of eight kids, of all ages, lying, crying, laughing and joking at my feet and the house of rags, waiting to fall apart would add to the beauty of the surroundings. If the city governing body did take note of the neglect meted out to the statue, then the family would probably be shifted to a residential area, or else I would have company, much to my disgust..


The scenes during day would change with time. Rush hour would see school and office goers rushing past. Afternoons would be quieter, but, come evening and the world would go bonkers again. Honking cars, hooting buses, chugging trains, wailing and whizzing two wheelers would all whizz past. Night would be the time of bliss, but that would be so awfully lonely that the statue would look forward for the sun to shine back. The statue would bear the scorching heat of the summer sun, and the bitter cold of winters. It would brave rough weather every time it rains, and yet would never change the near perfect smile on the face. I am me and I have no similarity with Ms Mayawati, and that’s an indication that I have no inclination towards having my statue constructed, especially when I am alive. To be placed as a statue in some park or crossroad, I’ll have to shift base to another world. But, I do not want to die yet. There are lots of things I still have to do. The statue will have to wait to be constructed, for what time?? Eternity!!