Change

BY K. CHANDRASEKHARAN, M.A.B.L., Madras

Woman is often described as fickle-minded in contrast to strong-natured man. This may be correct, but when compared with man’s whims and fancies, woman’s moods seem less unstable and inconstant. Why, as a matter of fact, there need be no special reproach against the mature adults either, for both are easily excelling the child in their craze for something new. It may be a most serious matter affecting life or it may be just a trifle of an enjoyment, both man and woman vie with on another for change in it. Whether it be in the matter of government, journalism, music, cinema, or, for that matter, anything essential or non-essential, change is the order of the day. If only some new machine can invented for indicating accurately the frequent oscillations in public taste we may get bewildered by the lines and cross-lines on the recording sheet.

Now, in contrast to the ape, it is man who shows fidgetiness and want of mental discipline. Every day finds him seeking change and sensation. He demands every time a new story, a new leader in the daily, a new picture, a fresh song, a new set of ministers to govern him. Either he must read the same story in a different language with just a few alterations of names and incidents or he must be provided a new theme the same phrases or diction. Again, morning or evening, he notices to satisfaction huge street posters displaying new ‘stars’ in their attractive make-up. Only in that picture, so-and-so appeared in the main cast; in this she is acting a man’s role, evoking no little amount of curiosity in him to witness that change. Only the other day, a particular song looked stereotyped; but today, when different words are set to the same people go mad after it. Three months ago, a kind of slogan resounded in every street corner and on every platform; this month the very same politicians are crying hoarse for a change of policy. Indeed, an ape will be much steadier in its perch on the topmost bough or even perform the same number of swirls with its swinging body. By long habit, its antics may have gained a regularity even.

It is the modernist that is the worse culprit in comparison with his ancient prototype. He needs always a new plot in the story he reads. The ancients accepted a book like the Ramayana or the Iliad as the best-told story. For, in contrast to the present day novels and realistic sagas, our puranas never contain the utterly lewd or the astoundingly cheap details of everyday life, but give us enduring characters and elevating sentiments. You may complain of the episodes in the Ramayana as too old and ordinary, with the same beginning where Valmiki asks the simple question of Narada as to who is the perfect man on earth. You are prepared for the same old answer from Narada that Rama, the ideal hero, satisfies all the requisites. You are told of the same old king’s agony to keep his plighted word and the hero’s rescue of his father from untruth at the cost of a mighty kingdom. Well, you really wonder how these old-world men never felt dissatisfied with repeating the same verses a hundred times and how crowds of listeners congregated to hear them.

There are things which must not change but retain their forms–mantras, for instance; their potency lies in the fact that one returns to the same old mood of prayerfulness by repeating them. A kirtana or a well-constructed song should not be sung as your fancy leads you; rather, the musician needs must develop the song in the same invariable order of melody or sangatis. If he wants to sing it differently, he would be deemed a bad performer. Certainly, if art is our only aim, we should make up our minds to conform to certain immutable laws and unchanging elements; if we fail to abide by long tested canons of taste and blurt out things for the sake of smartness, we shall begin saying them badly.

Classical art and literature have never departed from their ancient moorings. You cannot find in them things of the hour but only ideals and standards for all times. There is an Unvarying element in them which marks their permanence of value. That is the reason why we also cherish unchanging admiration for them. On the other hand, when we take up read a modern book, we finish it in a manner as we do a morning daily, throwing it away after perusal. Perhaps a re-reading of modern authors would enable us sometimes to rediscover our old attraction for the changing element. Perhaps, too, we leave it to posterity to find out for themselves the same old truth.