The mannequin maker !
When the entire country was celebrating the split, when her entire family was busy, moving to the other side of the divide looking forward to a peaceful life, Kursheeda was forced to stay back. She was expecting Beelal anytime. Yes, Beelal with two 'e's as in Kursheeda. Where once Nawabs ruled, where once her grand father fought in the mutiny, Beelal was born in a dirty corner of the Government hospital on the 15h of August. His birth went unnoticed in front of the big event. His life, we will come to judging that a bit later.
Kursheeda sold clay dolls to make a living. She inherited this profession from her husband, who was killed by six months ago by a killer cholera. Beelal would never see his father, Ahmeed(yeah, the two 'e' syndrome) except for in a blurred black and white photo. Kursheeda became a single mother for her only child.Everyday she would carry Beelal and a basket of dolls, each on one hip to the bazaars. On a good day, She made a rupee at most, which fed her and her son three times a day but still fell short providing any school education to Beelal. So Beelal grew up on the streets learning what her could teach her. Doll making. You would think that this is what got him into mannequin making. I will let you think what you want to think, for the time being.
Beelal started making dolls when he was just 10. I will not tell you much about his doll making abilities for his skill was no match his mother's. He always made the same doll. A clown. Yellow santaclaus cap, a blue face, curved eyebrows, small eyes which had orange and black(Beelal wasn't fond of white), a red-clown nose, lips, a short neck, a blue and yellow full sleeve shirt with alternate blue and yellow buttons, a green trouser which was left making a zigzag cut at the toe-end, and rainbow coloured shoes. A feet and 3 inches tall. All dolls were the same. That is when like any Indian mother Kursheeda started worrying about the one-trick Beelal. Her eyesight and her artist skills or lack of them did not let her see the thing in the clown's face. What was in it ? You have all the freedom to put the things you want to put on his face. And so did Beelal.
I will keep the rest of Beelal's boyhood and his teenage in mystery just like the Bible's authors. Let me just say Beelal, not unlike Jesus, learnt his miracles during this time. And then he decided to marry. Mina(were you expecting the double 'e' :-)), became Beelal's beloved wife. And she was first to look into the clown's face and tel what was on it. That day Beelal stopped making clay dolls. Not kursheeda. We will not dive deep and investigate what killed Kursheeda(people like articles to be short, especially the ones I write). Just be informed she died in the early hours of a monday morning in 1973 in her bed when Beelal and Mina were still fast asleep.
The first mannequin sold for 48 rupees. The Madras fabrics bought it for displaying it in their retail store. Beelal earned 15 rupees, the biggest amount he had earned in a single day, so far. In those initial days, orders were tough to come. But whatever that came earned him good money. And Beelal kept going. People loved his mannequins for they exuberated joy, happiness and warmth. Whats in the face ? 19 years in mannequin making and Bellal had earned himself a fortune. In 1992, for the first time in his long career his business started declining. Imported mannequins, with fair skin, was preferred over his dark skinned ones. Beelal stopped making mannequins. Was that the end of Beelal ? He hasn't even begun yet.
A writer writes, a painter paints and Beelal made his mannequins. With not a lot of business opportunities around the corner, Beelal took to mannequin making as a hobby. He would sit in house porch and observe all passers. He will pick his inspiration of the day and they start making a mannequin resembling the person he chose. He made sad mannequins, he made happy ones, the ones which are marked by jealous, the ones that cry, the ones that exults love, the ones that are angry. He would make them dance, He would make them act. He would cloth them with traditional fabric. He would give them names and religions. His mannequins were drenched with emotions, Indian traditions and culture. But I will tell you the truth now. None of his mannequins saw light. All of them were dumped in his basement. I will let you think of the reasons why he did that. At the end of the day, you are all Beelal's in your own way with a lot of mannequins buried in your hearts.
And then Mina. I haven't had the chance to tell you much about her. But you have to understand that the story is about her. After all she was the one who showed mannequin making to Beelal. All of Beelal's mannequins were manifestations of her ideas. And when she died in 1998, Beelal locked himself up in his house and started making mannequins. He made thousands of happy Minas and he surrounded himself among his Minas. All his Minas were happy. he liked his wife very much when she was happy And more than often she was when he was around her. The 20 * 20 basement became his life.
In 2002, a fire wiped out Beelal's neighbourhood. Neither his house, nor him were spared by the raging fire. 112 died in the accident and a rumour that many of them have turned into angry ghosts and haunted the neighbourhood floated in the air. All rehabilitation stopped. Not even all the charred bodies were removed. The place was entirely abandoned. No one ventured into the area until an author researching his novel decided to visit it. The author found the hideout where thousands of smiling Minas were stacked and wrote an article, THE MANNEQUIN MAKER.
Kursheeda sold clay dolls to make a living. She inherited this profession from her husband, who was killed by six months ago by a killer cholera. Beelal would never see his father, Ahmeed(yeah, the two 'e' syndrome) except for in a blurred black and white photo. Kursheeda became a single mother for her only child.Everyday she would carry Beelal and a basket of dolls, each on one hip to the bazaars. On a good day, She made a rupee at most, which fed her and her son three times a day but still fell short providing any school education to Beelal. So Beelal grew up on the streets learning what her could teach her. Doll making. You would think that this is what got him into mannequin making. I will let you think what you want to think, for the time being.
Beelal started making dolls when he was just 10. I will not tell you much about his doll making abilities for his skill was no match his mother's. He always made the same doll. A clown. Yellow santaclaus cap, a blue face, curved eyebrows, small eyes which had orange and black(Beelal wasn't fond of white), a red-clown nose, lips, a short neck, a blue and yellow full sleeve shirt with alternate blue and yellow buttons, a green trouser which was left making a zigzag cut at the toe-end, and rainbow coloured shoes. A feet and 3 inches tall. All dolls were the same. That is when like any Indian mother Kursheeda started worrying about the one-trick Beelal. Her eyesight and her artist skills or lack of them did not let her see the thing in the clown's face. What was in it ? You have all the freedom to put the things you want to put on his face. And so did Beelal.
I will keep the rest of Beelal's boyhood and his teenage in mystery just like the Bible's authors. Let me just say Beelal, not unlike Jesus, learnt his miracles during this time. And then he decided to marry. Mina(were you expecting the double 'e' :-)), became Beelal's beloved wife. And she was first to look into the clown's face and tel what was on it. That day Beelal stopped making clay dolls. Not kursheeda. We will not dive deep and investigate what killed Kursheeda(people like articles to be short, especially the ones I write). Just be informed she died in the early hours of a monday morning in 1973 in her bed when Beelal and Mina were still fast asleep.
The first mannequin sold for 48 rupees. The Madras fabrics bought it for displaying it in their retail store. Beelal earned 15 rupees, the biggest amount he had earned in a single day, so far. In those initial days, orders were tough to come. But whatever that came earned him good money. And Beelal kept going. People loved his mannequins for they exuberated joy, happiness and warmth. Whats in the face ? 19 years in mannequin making and Bellal had earned himself a fortune. In 1992, for the first time in his long career his business started declining. Imported mannequins, with fair skin, was preferred over his dark skinned ones. Beelal stopped making mannequins. Was that the end of Beelal ? He hasn't even begun yet.
A writer writes, a painter paints and Beelal made his mannequins. With not a lot of business opportunities around the corner, Beelal took to mannequin making as a hobby. He would sit in house porch and observe all passers. He will pick his inspiration of the day and they start making a mannequin resembling the person he chose. He made sad mannequins, he made happy ones, the ones which are marked by jealous, the ones that cry, the ones that exults love, the ones that are angry. He would make them dance, He would make them act. He would cloth them with traditional fabric. He would give them names and religions. His mannequins were drenched with emotions, Indian traditions and culture. But I will tell you the truth now. None of his mannequins saw light. All of them were dumped in his basement. I will let you think of the reasons why he did that. At the end of the day, you are all Beelal's in your own way with a lot of mannequins buried in your hearts.
And then Mina. I haven't had the chance to tell you much about her. But you have to understand that the story is about her. After all she was the one who showed mannequin making to Beelal. All of Beelal's mannequins were manifestations of her ideas. And when she died in 1998, Beelal locked himself up in his house and started making mannequins. He made thousands of happy Minas and he surrounded himself among his Minas. All his Minas were happy. he liked his wife very much when she was happy And more than often she was when he was around her. The 20 * 20 basement became his life.
In 2002, a fire wiped out Beelal's neighbourhood. Neither his house, nor him were spared by the raging fire. 112 died in the accident and a rumour that many of them have turned into angry ghosts and haunted the neighbourhood floated in the air. All rehabilitation stopped. Not even all the charred bodies were removed. The place was entirely abandoned. No one ventured into the area until an author researching his novel decided to visit it. The author found the hideout where thousands of smiling Minas were stacked and wrote an article, THE MANNEQUIN MAKER.
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