The lost child-2

The lost child-2

Storyboard Text

  • A snake-charmer stood playing a flute to a snake which coiled itself in a basket, its head raised in a graceful bend like the neck of a swan, while the music stole into its invisible ears like the gentle rippling of an invisible waterfall. The child went towards the snake-charmer. But, knowing his parents had forbidden him to hear such coarse music as the snake- charmer played, he proceeded farther.
  • There was a roundabout in full swing. Men, women and children, carried away in a whirling motion, shrieked and cried with dizzy laughter. The child watched them intently and then he made a bold request: 'I want to go on the roundabout, please, Father, Mother.'
  • There was no reply. He turned to look at his parents. They were not there, ahead of him. He turned to look on either side. They were not there. He looked behind. There was no sign of them. A full, deep cry rose within his dry throat and with a sudden jerk of his body he ran from where he stood, crying in real fear, 'Mother, Father." Tears rolled from his eyes.
  • I want my mother, I want my father!
  • His flushed face was convulsed with fear. Panic-stricken, he ran to one side first, then to the other, hither and thither in all directions, knowing not where to go. 'Mother, Father,' he wailed. His yellow turban came untied and his clothes became muddy, Having run to and fro in a rage of running for a while, he stood defeated, his cries suppressed into sobs.
  • At little distances on the green grass he could see, through his filmy eyes, men and women talking. He tried to look intently among the patches of bright yellow clothes, but there was no sign of his father and mother among these people, who seemed to laugh and talk. He ran to a shrine to which people seemed to be crowding. Every little inch of space here was congested with men, but he ran through people's legs, his little sob lingering: 'Mother, Father!'
  • A man in the surging crowd heard his cry and, stooping with great difficulty, lifted him up in his arms. 'How did you get here, child? Whose baby are you?' the man asked as he steered clear of the mass. The child wept more bitterly than ever now and only cried, 'I want my mother, I want my father!' The man tried to soothe him by taking him to different places.
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