"And we think, we lost in life"
A guy on the street to work happened to meet this long haired, wrinkled faced artist who'd sit with his artwork near the Jehangir Art Gallery.
It was a week before that his paintings turned the guy's look into a stare. Every stroke had something more, more than what it looked like. There was plastic folder underneath his stool that caught a glimpse of. He gave the guy a stern look. The next few days, the guy would pass by his shop regularly. That plastic folder would lie there, untouched, unattended.
One day, the guy made up his mind to ask him out "Excuse me, your paintings are beautiful Can I have a look at the ones in that plastic folder?" He asked politely. "Go away!" The old man replied grimly.
Days passed, he would see the guy almost everyday. But one fine day, he waved a hand at him and called out, "Hey boy! Come here." The guy went towards him. l'm really sorry for that day. It's just that I don't like people eyeing that folder." He said apologetically ". But please, can you tell me what is in it?" The guy asked him.
"Have a seat." He said. The guy sat on the stool and he opened the folder. It had woman's and a girl's portrait. He lit a cigarette and began.....
"This is my daughter, Kala (heI). A decade ago, life was good. I had Sau, my wife, a princess of a daughter, a profession that I loved. Everything that one could wish for. Until one day, Sau was travelling in an overcrowded train, her leg slipped and she fell out. On hearing the news, I rushed to the hospital. But she shut her eyes forever." He said. The guy froze. He didn't know what to say . "Kala would ask me about her but would avoid it by an excuse. But one day, she was told everything by our neighbour She came home, shrieked, threw plates, cried. I didn't utter a word. But after that day, she'd changed. She would wake up at midnight, shriek loudly, pee her pants and laugh hysterically. She would empty the cupboard, saying, "Maa? Come out. and I would cry." He sighed. I totally lost myself. "Her condition worsened. But she was my Kala, how could I let go of my princess? One day I returned home. She was on the floor, lying in a puddle of blood. Kala had cut her veins. People stopped talking to me. A time had come that even I thought of ending my life. But Kala and Saudamini would've never wished me to do this. Their paintings are here, with me."
He stopped, wiped his tears and smiled, looking at that guy "Chacha....Chacha. Please take care. He gasped. His body had gone numb, he left. On his walk towards home, the guy smirked and asked himself
"And we think, we lost in life."