A Prodigy on Train

A journey on an Indian train is bound to run one into some prodigy of exceptional talent. The circumstances, however, being contrary to the bliz and glitz of media stars, doesn't provoke any fandrum. Yet, these nameless and faceless but vibrant singers, gymnasts, and instrumentalists do ask for a living in an honourable way. They are dejected despite their talents because the world is ashamed of them. I often have marvelled at the dexterity with which a kid's fingers had performed on a single string fastened from the end of any container to a one foot pole attached to it. He or she would play both the rhythm and the melody on that simplistic lyre. I've also often gazed with wonder at little three to five year old kids perform gymnastics, within the train alley, on rings and ropes. These all go unrecognized by the world. We are passers by little glittering gold, as we struggle for passions that we can never hold: while this world does afford us our little space, let's also remember that these prodigies have a face.
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