The Masquerade

The other day a friend of mine asked me to help him out with a speech for his 7 year old nephew.Now I am no Demosthenes or Aristotle to deliver authentic speeches on "Mother is a teacher".But I comply and sit down to rack my brain to squeeze out ten decent lines.It turned out to be like an MA essay,where one goes off in a tangent.The result is yet to be known.

I was discussing the incident with Mum when she fondly remembered that it was time for youth festivals in schools.It's a time when the schools buzz with creative activities of teachers,children and most importantly their ambitious parents.Singing (solo and group in all three languages),dances(folk,traditional and western),dramas, speeches(declamation,extempore),writing(essay, poetry and short story), drawing(painting,sketching)fancy dress and recitation;the usual items in every youth festival.Our school had a special competition called Flower arrangement with subdivisions like fresh flower,dried flower and vegetable carving.It was the fancy dress and flower arrangement competitions that caught my fancy as a 6 year old.

My Mum,a perfect sport in all the things we did,plunged herself heart and soul into getting me ready for the two.I turn up in the library where the event was to take place and realize that,the flower arrangement competition was not child's play.My tiny vase and a motley assortment of flowers(for which we hunted all over Chalai market the previous night and a few wild ones from the wall across the road) stood no chance among the exotic orchids,fragrant roses, gay anthuriums and colourful asters.Most of them had exquisite vases and pretty decorations like miniature fences, swings, wicker baskets and ribbons.Undeterred,I set about with the arrangement when the kid next to me whisked out a vase and an already set oasis from her big-shopper and smiled glibly at me!That evening Mum and I consoled ourselves with a declaration that we always believed in creativity.

The defeat at the flower-arrangement boosted our enthusiasm for the fancy dress competition.Mum had found this great book at Paico called Children's Fancy Dress & Parties which was exclusively on simple do-it-yourself fancy dress costumes(primarily meant for masquerade parties,quite unheard of in our country then).We browsed through a gallery of costumes ranging from Fairies to Red Indians and Robots to Clowns .There were a set called "Cheap costumes" which featured hula skirts and paper rabbit costumes.I was particularly impressed by the Fairy who looked quite pretty in a frilly sea-blue dress,gauze wings,a pearly tiara and a wand.I tried persuading Mum to settle for it but it turned out to be one of the most expensive costumes in the book.Somehow the stuff considered 'waste materials' in foreign homes are to be bought from stores here;those who watch 'Art Attack' on Disney channel will agree.Mum didn't want to let me down and settled for the Angel costume on page one.The book had a picture of an angel in golden robes,a blue and gold halo,a pair of golden wings and a harp.Not bad! I thought.

We soon set about making the costume.We hunted high and low for gold satin but in vain.So we settled for blue instead.We planned it with golden trimmings and star-shaped sequins.The harp,halo and wings works were undertaken by Mum herself,
armed with sheets of cardboard,a pair of scissors and gold foil.Soon the place smelt pleasantly of Fevicol and voilà !, they almost resembled the ones in the picture.The local tailors,however, accustomed to stitching only sari blouses and salwaar kameezes did a shoddy job with my costume.It looked like those dress robes in Harry Potter.Nevertheless I was excited about the competition the next day.

Mum helped me to dress in the green room, powdered my face with rose powder and stuck a few star-sequins on my forehead and there I was, a little blue angel! I could read satisfaction in her eyes.

We were soon asked to queue up according to the chest numbers.I joined the long line right behind my classmate who looked grumpy in a rabbit outfit with cloth ears hanging from his head , munching a carrot.The nun-in-charge mistook Neil sporting a camera,to be a participant and said sweetly, "And you are...ah! a Photographer,lovely! get into the line,dear!"

After a long wait in the queue of "doctors","teachers","Santas","fisher women","beggars" and "brides",it was finally my turn.I stepped lightly across the school portico (where the competition was held)stringing the harp and smiling the best I can,with a number of missing milk teeth.Our headmistress ,a very feminine nun,watched me with a puzzled look on her face until the compère announced "Chest no 23-The Angel".I spent about a minute putting up a cherubic performance("But trailing clouds of glory do we come/From God, who is our home:/Heaven lies about us in our infancy!")*.I was received warmly by my proud mother,off stage.We took a couple of snaps in very angelic poses and returned home immensely satisfied.

The results were announced the next day and needless to say my name was missing from the list."Maybe they didn't like an angel in disguise" said Papa,struggling to keep a straight face .Ofcourse we weren't disappointed;we still believed that participation was more important.However, it was a comment from a classmate that made the whole episode a hit.He spots me in class and exclaims"Hey ! weren't you the one who turned up as the bird!!!"


Dedicated to all those great parents who take efforts and delight in encouraging their child's dreams in the right spirit.

*
From:
Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood, William Wordsworth.