The Sculptor
By
Rajesh Kaul
The Sculptor
By
Rajesh Kaul
It is said that a sculptor should have a healthy and strong body, because he has to work with lifeless, cold, rough stones and to cut them hard to carve out the image of a statue. For this work one needs much skill and talent as well the strength and vigour of the body. If that is the yardstick, then he was, as if carved out for the job with right proportions of the body and a high level of artistic skill. He also did not feel the need to ‘mend; or ‘change’ the body proportions bestowed by God. Perhaps, he never seriously thought over it, whether he should do what he was doing or take up some different work. If you think he had any training or anybody assisted him in sculpting ,you would be wrong.
In fact, in the beginning, he and his work were viewed or looked at, the way you look at the wild grass that grows up on the clay walls after the rainy season – without utility and meaningless. If it is, let it be, if not, it wouldn’t matter. As for as he is concerned, he never thought about what the people thought about his work. While working at the stone, he would seem to be meditating like an accomplished saint or sage. Deeply absorbed in his work, he would concentrate on the work, object and its curves, its beauty or ugliness, sunlight and shade, ups and downs and portray all these phenomena in detail. Sometimes this was so difficult and delicate a process that it would be impossible to draw a line or sketch the details of a phenomenon or its reaction. He never gave any explanation about any of his sculptures. In the early stages, this habit gave the impression that perhaps, he himself, was not conscious of what he was creating. Some smart and wise people would comment, “It is better that he is creating something, instead of spending time in idle pursuits”.
It is difficult to say what happened after that. But his work progressed at a paces faster than the pace at which time flees. The fame spread – it had to. He would still be in the process of conceiving a new theme for the next creation, that the customer would knock at his door. As has been the tradition, that whenever some commodity is in demand, the touts would clinch the deal. That would infuriate him, not because of the considerations of price, but because the concept or theme had still remained incompletely depicted, and the client would get an incomplete statue. He would confront the middleman and even admonish him or be rude with him. But, they say quarrelling with a tout is like whipping a dead horse. He would feel frustrated and irritated, but the middleman would show no sign of any change in the behaviour. Gradually, in his helplessness and hopelessness, he entrusted ‘himself’ to the middleman, because he wanted to devote his time towards his work. He achieved fame and respectability, and the touts built mansions. Nobody would dare to talk against the tout, and talking about sculptor was out of question. If any one of them found an excuse or a chance to talk to him, he would feel elated. But, as for the sculptor, he seemed to be unaware of all the happenings around him. He would be too busy in testing the stones, identifying the reins in it, and trying to resolve the complicated problems of translating the theme into the texture of the sculptures. It was a kind of unconscious process or act. If he found a good specimen of stone, he would be unmindful of everything around him, but gradually he became dependent upon touts, in a way. They would take his creations, pieces of art, to the connoisseurs, the people who would appreciate art, and transact business with them. He was contented, for two reasons, that material-stone was available, and he still had the capacity to create. So time passed – as they say- seasons changed. The middlemen changed their profession, and some new middleman appeared on the scene. But, it made no difference to him, it did not affect him at all, till one day all the middlemen disappeared, as if vanished. The sculptures got piled up, because there were neither touts nor buyers. Feeling nervous, he tried to take stock of the situation – and have a feel of the surroundings. He was stunned, utterly shocked, and could not breathe properly. His tongue, seemed to have stuck up. He tried to shout, but no sound came out. Everything around, him seemed to be devastated. Some ‘calamity’ seemed to have engulfed everything. He even forgot his work place. For a long time, he tried to survey the surroundings. He found nothing, no clue that could help him to know what had happened. The stones got covered with dust; nothing could be discerned, neither veins nor texture. His instruments, got rusted. Need compelled him to find a way out. He tried to ponder over it, to recollect. He seemed to have lost all sensibility and even a sense of time.
But one day, perhaps God took pity on him. An old tout presented himself. The sculptor could not contain himself with joy and he caught him in a tight embrace. “It was a great ordeal – my search for you”. The aged or experienced trout replied’, I was also searching for you and I am also much tired”. The sculptor heaved a sigh of relief and addressed the tout, with a smile, “I have done some, great pieces, fine sculptures. Before he could complete his sentence, the tout interrupted him, “These things don’t sell now, my dear”. The sculptor was astonished and said, “why?” “Nothing, the need for these things has vanished”. The sculptor was sad, because he could do nothing else than carve stones or make sculptors. So he asked the tout, “so?” A tout young or old, cannot change his ways. For a brief moment, he looked at him intently, as if he was trying to find out how helpless he was. Then, with a smile, he said, “So, what? There is a way, but only, if you agree or accept it”. The sculptor seemed to be apprehensive and wanted to say something when the tout said, “No, no need to feel nervous or worried. Money will come and in greater quantity than you used to get. You would feel too tired to accept all that. But, you have to make, what you are asked to”. The sculptor felt a little scared and said”, Like what?”
You have to make gravestones’, replied the tout, stressing the word gravestone” “What grave stones?” the sculptor asked like a fool. “Don’t you know what a gravestone is? It is the stone that is installed over grave, with the information about the dead persons, like name, date of birth, date of death, carved on the stone. Haven’t you seen?” The sculptor changed colour, as if he was under a spell.” Yes, I have seen it somewhere. But I don’t..” Before he could say more, the tout said arrogantly, ‘you will gain experience, once you make two or three grave stones”. The sculptor felt angry on this tone of the tout ‘Experience is all right. But one must know who is dead, what his name was?’ The tout retorted without listening to him properly, ‘you won’t achieve anything. No – nothing. You make a list of names. The name that comes forth, you carve that on the stone. There is a need for gravestones of every name. As I told you, you will get much more money”.
“Once, the list is complete, then?” The sculptor said in a feeble voice. “A fresh list to be prepared. You don’t have only one person of one name,” he said. These words shocked him so much that he seemed to be in a stupor, but the tout gave a shout, that awakened him. “Go now and get busy with your work”. So, the sculptor turned towards his studio-workplace. From that day onwards, he has been busy in carving gravestones. The gravestone is still unfinished or incomplete, when the corpse arrives. They say the sculptor has almost run short of stone. He wants to keep one stone carved for himself, but he is not sure he will have any stone left by that time.
Translated by J. L. Raina
