Difference between revisions of "Story:revise 2"
From PhalkeFactory
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| − | + | My journey began on April 30,1870 at Trymbakeshwar 29 kms from Nashik. Mother Dwarkabai had suffered a lot of pain and difficulties before my journey began,so that i would not get any trials in my journey.My father Dajishastri Phalke worked as a priest conducting religious ceremonies in Trymbakeshwar. | |
Having a religious background, I had inherited the best habits and culture of a typical Hindu joint family back then. I grew up in the holy ambience, but my interest towards studying religion was not so exciting as "ART" was. | Having a religious background, I had inherited the best habits and culture of a typical Hindu joint family back then. I grew up in the holy ambience, but my interest towards studying religion was not so exciting as "ART" was. | ||
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| + | During my childhood days (1873-74), I was always surrounded with slate, pencils and coloured chalks.I used to pick up the coloured chalks and scribble something on the slate which was disturbing my mind a lot. Most of the times my mother sat besides me and saw with keen interest what i was scribbling. She thounght that my "INNER ART" should not go in waste, so she kept a drawing teacher for me who could guide me on the right track, so that i could excel in it. | ||
Latest revision as of 17:36, 13 October 2006
My journey began on April 30,1870 at Trymbakeshwar 29 kms from Nashik. Mother Dwarkabai had suffered a lot of pain and difficulties before my journey began,so that i would not get any trials in my journey.My father Dajishastri Phalke worked as a priest conducting religious ceremonies in Trymbakeshwar. Having a religious background, I had inherited the best habits and culture of a typical Hindu joint family back then. I grew up in the holy ambience, but my interest towards studying religion was not so exciting as "ART" was.
During my childhood days (1873-74), I was always surrounded with slate, pencils and coloured chalks.I used to pick up the coloured chalks and scribble something on the slate which was disturbing my mind a lot. Most of the times my mother sat besides me and saw with keen interest what i was scribbling. She thounght that my "INNER ART" should not go in waste, so she kept a drawing teacher for me who could guide me on the right track, so that i could excel in it.
