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It’s my birthday; I’ll take my wife out to show her what Van Gogh painted

Dec 30, 2014 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon

When I was courting my wife, she introduced me to one of her favourite songs, ‘Vincent.’ Written and sung by Don McLean (I prefer the Nana Mouskouri version – this is an amazing song about an amazing man who committed suicide because he felt life and people were unfair to him), it is a tribute to one of the world’s most talented painters, Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1850). The opening line of the song begins, “Starry, starry night.” This is in reference to one of art’s phenomenal paintings, “Starry Night,” done by Van Gogh.
For this Christmas my daughter insisted that she didn’t want a surprise gift; she wanted a print of “Starry Night,” and she wanted it situated on the wall where it stares at her when she is going upstairs and it stares at her when she is going downstairs. This is the most strategically placed print I have in my home since I have to face it whenever I leave upstairs to go downstairs and vice versa. And I do so incessantly.
I have been looking at Starry Night so often since December 25 (five days before my birthday) that the idea came to me that I should take my wife out for the entire day and when the evening comes relive what we use to do when we were courting – attempt to count the stars while on the Camp Street seawall.
Things just collide in life. I planned this year to spend every minute of my birthday with the woman I have shared thirty-seven of my birthdays with (never missed one with her) and out of the blue my daughter wanted “Starry Night.” Starry Night reminds me of my courting days with my girlfriend and the stars we would gaze at. And here I am taking my wife out today for the entire day and will show her what Van Gogh painted.
There is a hurdle, though, that we have to cross when we are on the seawall tonight. I get scared when it gets towards 10 PM. If you know my wife, you can ask her; she gets even more afraid. This is the reality of my life in my country. I don’t want to be a hero and go out there and get hurt by people who would kill out of the lust for power.
Look at what happened to Mr. Courtney Crum Ewing. Since the Nandlall tape scandal, Mr. Crum-Ewing has conducted a one-man protest outside Nandlall’s office.  Last week, the man’s main source of income was devastated when political worms attacked his mini-bus. Neighbours saw when three men descended on the bus and physically removed parts including the computer box.
It was not that these men waited until an uncivilized hour to make their move. They were bold enough to do so in full view of Mr. Crum Ewing’s neighbours. This is how desperate and paranoid the power-holders of this country have become. The implications are frightening when two dimensions of the minibus incident are analyzed.
First, Mr. Crum Ewing is not East Indian. PPP leaders become insanely hostile to Indian condemners of their rule. They feel you are trying to weaken their main source of power. An African critic in Georgetown may be left touched once he does not set his sight on the Indians in Berbice. For the PPP the most dangerous person in Guyana is an Indian protestor against PPP domination.
Secondly, Mr. Crum Ewing is a mere protestor holding a piece of cardboard in his hand. He does not threaten any other human. He does not incite violence. He has no group with him. If an African Guyanese on a one-man protest can be attacked as in the minibus incident then think of what the power-holders are capable of if their hold on power is seriously confronted by people who appeal directly to Indo-Guyanese.
This is what this country has become. Mrs. Patricia Rodney, the wife of Walter, needs to understand this. I will have more to say on the Guyana that Mrs. Rodney left behind in 1980 and Guyana in 2014. The Guyana Mrs. Rodney left in 1980 looks like paradise to present day Guyana.
The attack on Mr. Crum Ewing and Mr. Glenn Lall were obviously meant to scare them and had they surrendered, those who saw the capitulation would have been intimidated too and power madness would have won out.
I am spending the entire day of December 30, my birthday with my wife. But when the shadows of night show their faces, after gazing at what Van Gogh painted, I’m taking my wife to safer grounds – home

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