The lost child - Carolyn
Storyboard Text
- IT was the festival of spring. From the wintry shades of narrow lanes and alleys emerged a gaily clad humanity. Some walked, some rode on horses, others sat, being carried in bamboo and bullock carts. One little boy ran between his father’s legs, brimming over with life and laughter
- Come child look what’s in front of you
- No
- I want that toy
- Come , child , come
- “Come, child, come!” his parents called from the shade of a grove where they had seated themselves on the edge of a well. He ran towards them.
- He half murmured, “I want that garland.” But he well knew his parents would refuse to buy him those flowers because they would say that they were cheap. So, without waiting for an answer, he moved on.
- A garland of gulmohur, a garland of gulmohur!
- I want that garland
- “I want that burfi,” he slowly murmured. But he half knew as he begged that his plea would not be heeded because his parents would say he was greedy. So without waiting for an answer he moved on.
- gulab-jaman, rasagulla, burfi, jalebi!
- I want that burfi
- He turned to look at his parents. They were not there, ahead of him Every little inch of space here was congested with men, but he ran through people’s legs A man in the surging crowd heard his cry and, stooping with great difficulty, lifted him up in his arms. 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?
- I want my mother, I want my father!
- Thinking to humour his disconsolate charge by a gift of sweets, the man took him to the counter of the sweet shop. “What sweets would you like, child?” he asked. The child turned his face from the sweet shop and only sobbed, “I want my mother, I want my father!
- Shh .. it’s ok . Do you want a burfi ?Or a garland of gulmohur ?
- I want my mother, I want my father!
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