Kabuliwalla by Tagore
There are few stories that move you to tears and Kabuliwalla by Tagore is one such story. Though the story has only three characters: Mini, the father (the narrator), and Kabuliwalla, it will inch into your heart and move you, deeply. Is it the picture painted by Tagore? The same way that Mini's father is transported to Afghanistan listening to the mere word. So, are we transported. The autumn, the gate, the nuts, and the innocent friendship between Mini and Kabuliwalla.
The story is simple: A hawker who visits several houses, meets a young scared girl and slowly forms a perfectly saccharine bond with her. As she talks to the Kabuliwalla and he becomes an enthusiastic listener, you become a mute observer on the porch of Mini's house and wait for the mighty Afghan too. But things slowly take a turn and soon, the Kabuliwala is forgotten till he returns years later. If you haven't read it, I'd nudge you to.
After all, a perfect story is one that you live and relive and this story was told over years in movies and series too. The unblemished camaraderie is tough to adjust to, but the images in the story is painted so well, you get gravitated towards it. The lanes of Calcutta, the ideal life of the narrator as a writer and the characters in the story he is writing too. You can image a window with grill bars and a huge courtyard with trees. One can learn the art of the short from this piece.
But what touched my heart was the version of Netflix. In its naive, childhood like innocence, when the platform hadn't delved into gore, Stories of Tagore had been adapted into a series and this story was wonderfully adapted. One of the first series on Netflix India, where crime and gore hadn't paved its way.
Most often than not, the screen adaptation is a disappointment but watching the series, I bawled like a child. Perhaps, remembering the old times and the days where fear hadn't caught up with us. Watch this series to understand Tagore's prowess and the simpler times. And the brilliance of Tagore in flesh.
The story is simple: A hawker who visits several houses, meets a young scared girl and slowly forms a perfectly saccharine bond with her. As she talks to the Kabuliwalla and he becomes an enthusiastic listener, you become a mute observer on the porch of Mini's house and wait for the mighty Afghan too. But things slowly take a turn and soon, the Kabuliwala is forgotten till he returns years later. If you haven't read it, I'd nudge you to.
After all, a perfect story is one that you live and relive and this story was told over years in movies and series too. The unblemished camaraderie is tough to adjust to, but the images in the story is painted so well, you get gravitated towards it. The lanes of Calcutta, the ideal life of the narrator as a writer and the characters in the story he is writing too. You can image a window with grill bars and a huge courtyard with trees. One can learn the art of the short from this piece.
But what touched my heart was the version of Netflix. In its naive, childhood like innocence, when the platform hadn't delved into gore, Stories of Tagore had been adapted into a series and this story was wonderfully adapted. One of the first series on Netflix India, where crime and gore hadn't paved its way.
Most often than not, the screen adaptation is a disappointment but watching the series, I bawled like a child. Perhaps, remembering the old times and the days where fear hadn't caught up with us. Watch this series to understand Tagore's prowess and the simpler times. And the brilliance of Tagore in flesh.
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