Never mind the six pence

SOMERSET Maugham in his novel , The Moon and Sixpence, about the tumultuous life of an artist obsessed with his art above all else, draws the perfect analogy. A fictional artist based on the great Paul Gauguin is described as being "so busy yearning for the moon that he never saw the sixpence at his feet." 

What is it about the moon that it has always made its way into art, literature and music? Van Gogh's exploding stars contrasted by a whirlpool moon or Ella Fitzgerald's booming voice singing - "Say, it's only a paper moon/Sailing over a cardboard sea" never fails to mesmerise.

A ragged, yellow rock in the night sky which changes its shape throughout the days and plays a hide and seek game with the clouds; it's no wonder the moon has fuelled the imagination and heightened the senses. 

In Hindu mythology the moon is said to have been born when the gods churned the sea of milk – and the beautiful moon was then taken by Shiva as a jewel for his forehead. In the Upanishads the moon is given its rightful place - "Fire became speech and entered the mouth. Wind became breath and entered the nose. The sun became sight and entered the eyes... The moon became mind and entered the heart".

But the moon figures just as much in legends and beliefs that are still held dearly by its adherents. A popular belief is the association of the moon with madness – so much so that the word 'lunacy' derives from the Latin word 'luna' or moon. 

Numerous scientific studies have been done to find a correlation between mental diseases and the phases of the moon, and although no such evidence has ever been found, the myth lives on. Policemen and nurses in some countries report higher cases of violence during full moons. While all these are probably cases of confirmation biases, legends are tenacious and nights of full moons still inspire panic and inspiration.  

While western literature speaks of werewolves that prowl on nights when the full moon peaks from the cover of clouds, our culture too holds these astronomical events with certain significance. Purnima and amabossha are recurring motifs in horror stories and eclipses are caused by demons swallowing the sun. 

Then there's the side unseen, compared to the side of humans that they prefer to keep out of sight. The dark side of the moon has inspired artists all over, and anyone who has heard Pink Floyd magnum opus, The Dark Side of the Moon, knows the feeling this image can invoke.

But the moon is not all creepy crawlies – though never any less enigmatic. From barren old ladies to yearning maidens, poets and artists have given this night rock in the sky personalities throughout the ages. Cat Stevens singing of nostalgia – "Cats in the cradle and the silver spoon/ The little boy blue and the man of the moon" to our own folk stories about the old lady with the spinning wheel who knits, the craters of the moon bear striking resemblances to larger than life human beings. And who can forget the childhood favourite – Chand Mama – the moon as an uncle who comes down to bless children and is an augury of good fortune.

City lights might have taken away the splendour of the lunar light, and space exploration has established with scientific accuracy of the craters and dust. But the moon still continues to inspire, a muse from afar, a bringer of maladies and a refuge for the lovelorn. It is still as much a part of us even in this age of electric lights. As Anton Chekov said, "Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass."

Photo: Collected