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| Image Courtesy: Our Beautiful World and Universe |
Had the boy knew the real meaning of the idea called success, he would not have been capable of preparing himself for the arangettam, the debutante performance in Chenda, in front of a public gathered for a festival at another temple nearby. Success would have needed a lot of tears, a lot of pain, a lot of blood, but he had not shed a drop of tear, nor did he even sweat in an attempt he never thought of any seriousness. For the boy, learning to play Chenda was just a matter of his survival. There was no competition, no goals or deadlines. There was just a heart that reminded him repeatedly about the fun in playing the drum and feeling the beats.
So the little boy went to the shack again. He had not bowed himself to the salt crystal punishment. He hid himself behind the bushes again. And in three months, he was ready for Arangettam.
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