My colours, my canvas

20th November, 2010

Many would have seen paintings; some of you might be the creators of one. I fall in the second category. Yes, I paint. i love playing with colours. Bright, dark and some really shiny. You mix and get more types of them .the canvas is vast and a good painter always tries to put his whole lot of imagination into it. He doesn’t exactly know about the outcome, because he’s busy playing. All his energy is focused on a limited area, within which he projects his then current state of mind. But the challenge of mind is to create within some restrictions .when you can’t go with all your imagination.

Once your mind is portrayed on the canvas, erasing it and preparing a new one isn’t possible. You need a different canvas for maintaining the stream line flow of thoughts and colours. Sometimes your thoughts and imagination goes beyond limits and you need more space, a bigger canvas that accumulates all your thoughts and then you play with them,

The “SKY” is then your new canvas with clouds as your brushes, available In all shapes and sizes. All you have to do is , sit down and relax and let your imagination fill up the sky. You have the rainbow as your ultimate source of colours, everlasting so you can never stop painting and it is always erasable. You don’t need a new one .in this modern age, this is the only thing in nature available for plenty , is free and always at your service.
But like everything in this world, the sky has some limits.

It was late in the night as I returned from my bashing evening. Never in my life I had so much of fun and so it is expected that I had to share all of my feeling and positive vibrations I held within me , with someone who wouldn’t let this happiness go in vain. I messaged her
“Had a blast full evening, have lots tories to tell”

It’s started raining. I was now busy arranging my room and sudden message tone broke the silence. I was expecting her reply. This was it.it read;

“call asap”

To which I politely replied….

“M low on balance, is it possible for you to call??”

It was too late and I wasn’t expecting her call but the caller ringtone reached my ears, breaking the silence again and then I left my room, giving my roommate some space with his books and I made some for myself. I roamed through the whole corridor, never alone. Her voice was as beautiful as she herself, yet she never trusted me when I complimented her.
she was unique. I haven’t seen any other girl who’s more beautiful than her and with such purity of heart, very innocent, cute , lovable , joyful and sweet. Words seem less to describe her. All these I thought while she was enquiring about my “stories” to which I replied very enthusiastically.
By this time I had descended down one level and was standing devant a broken window which we called the gateway to heaven. In front of me was a huge valley with distant white spots. It was already past 12am. The next day had begun. The dark bluish sky with white spills and minute polka dots and varying shades of violet combined.so calm and silent indicating the coming up of a new time...

My eyes were admiring the scenic beauty, when I asked her

“so how was the day??”

To which she silently in low voice….

“Nothing much, just another day of college and studies, had some fun and then back home tired”

(some conversations later….)

“haven’t you ever thought of doing something special in life”?

Then I got to know, she always wanted to be a model. She was so dedicated to this dream that she left chocolates.(her favori) went off on dieting to get the perfect shape. she knew within her heart that she will make it. I could see her very well through the clouds. i was painting her as she continued speaking imagining her clothes , her smile and surroundings. The painting also included her as a supermodel. a smile came on my face. i painted her through the dark sky with colours from my mind box.i said her “I vote for you”…

But suddenly, the painting was wet. The colours started fading. Image was becoming blurred. My canvas was getting wet. I felt, I was losing her. She was crying. her voice was like water that spilt over my canvas .i was terrified was getting confused. Why , Why this sudden flickering of emotions?? i had tears in my eyes as she continued speaking, about her dreams crushed by the society’s grinding stone. She collapsed (that’s what I felt).

You don’t know how much I wanted to be there with her, to talk and make her feel light. Not to share but to take her burden, to wipe her tears….to tell her that I am always by your side. To tell her, how much I loved her…..

That night was unusual .the sky was my canvas. the mind played with all its accesable colours…all ot mixed and created some unforgettable moments .i hoped that she would have also seen the same sky, so that she knows some people want her in their life, that she should always be happy and never stop searching for opportunities and make a new start with every given one. life is a rocky terrain. i wished that she saw my painting.i didn’t sleep well and made a promise to myself that I wont let her potential get drained and will make her aware of it asap..i looked through the window,I could see her again on the “canvas”. she was happy. Then I was comfortable.

..if you read this, just know…you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. your heart is clearer than the morning dew and people like you are very few… your such a “shona” .always keep smiling because a smile looks good when its on you and in future if you feel low,

“meri shakal yaad karlena…hassi apne aap aajayegi”

I ‘ll be the most happiest person on this earth.
Amicalement
ABC….