The rustics, seen through the eyes of Oliver Goldsmith in his poem
‘The Village School Master’ exclaimed ‘how the small head could carry
all the news?’. What is not small in this world? The world we see is small,
thanks to the technological leap forward. People look back and say that there
was a time when it took ten sheeps to cover a woman. Now a silk worm can
do it, courtesy, technology. The human body, the brain, the head, the heart and
so on, and everything we see including the eye through which see are all small.
Is it because the head is small that we refuse to allow our mind to think ‘big’?
Is it because the heart is small that we are not large hearted? Should we be
peevish enough to have inward elation over the sufferings of those who cease
to be in our ‘wanted-list’? While ‘Small is Beautiful’, small-mindedness is
uglier than what the mirror can reflect when one stands in its front. It was
the positive outlook of the rustics that made them to praise the school master.
Men and women may come and go. Some may kindle our thoughts by their
kind and noble gestures. They not only leave an indelible imprint on us, but
make us feel that they, by their words and deeds have become a part of our
own self. Many by their double talk and dubious action make us curse our
own stars for having brought us in contact with them. Should we allow
ourselves to be crushed under the dirty feet of these ‘green-eyed’ monsters?
These men and women whose ‘chief good and market of their time be but to
sleep, feed and gossip-beasts no more’ will become bankrupt when we learn
to ignore them.
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