This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 42; the forty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "COLOR"
An artist less recognized, a child less loved, a friend less cared for, Vyom was everything you won't want to be. At 24, he was still in the third year of his engineering. His seniors who were once his batch mates used to make fun of him saying that he has been wearing the same clothes since his first year. He did not have enough dough. Perhaps he never got pocket money from his parents. He didn't use to mingle much. He never ragged juniors when all his batch mates derived pleasure out of it.
When I entered college, he was my senior. He had a raw appeal on his face and his ear-to-ear smile was childlike. It was through a mutual friend of ours that we got introduced. Slowly, I got to know Vyom better. He would talk a lot on messengers but generally lived a low profile routine in a place where everyone owned a kingdom of their own.
Vyom was a step child born to his father's illicit relationship with another woman. One day he woke up and found out that his parents were no more. There and then, ceased the existence of a 'family' for him.
He never wanted to mention it but I could see right through his heart. He was happy because he had no one to advice him anymore. He could be the self made man he always wanted to be. Just that he hadn't had enough dough to sustain his living.
For his "first year" clothes were all that he could manage by selling off his paintings. The paintings which could only be a result of a master's stroke. He would go to a nearby NGO and put his paintings on exhibition there. For every 100 bucks that the painting earned, he would be paid 70. Vyom's paintings were a hit though. One day he exhausted his painting colors and he couldn't paint anymore. His earnings had dried up. He won't take a penny from me. He said he did not want to take on liabilities. I was happy for him to not return the money but that used to intensify anger in an otherwise calm person.
The irony of life was such that when his paintbrush asked to be fed, he did not have enough money to feed himself. We used to walk in a lone part of college. That is where I found peace. We had started to hold hands. I would tightly entangle my fingers with his and hours would pass by, just like that.
One day while we were walking, he disentangled our fingers and ran up to something. I followed him. He turned around and signaled me move away. He was doing something on a large folded paper he just took out from his pocket. At a distance, it was me looking with sufficient perplexity to lead to hysteria. After a while, he called me to witness a moment of unfathomable truce. Lying in front of me was a sand painting and sitting besides it was the artist.
His earnings were going to come back. He kept looking at the painting. The red sand, the fine pebbles and the yellow dust and an A1 size paper. That were the only paraphernalia he now required. His eyes were beaming.
"Necessity is the mother of invention", he came in line with it, the hard way.
Now if you ask me about myself, I am about to graduate this year and Vyom would take at least one year more in all possible likelihood (if he completes his engineering!). In the coming two months, I'm going to be out of this town, probably far away from Vyom.
Once I'm gone I don't know if he'd care. He has grown up in void of any company. I recently was away from college for a week. There was indifference in his attitude on my return. His tears have dried up and his expectations from anyone are at a bare minimum.
The other day when it went from breezy to windy to raining, we spent time in the shelter of a broken warehouse. We kissed before parting and he uncurled my tresses. Till date, that remains the most passionate moment I have with him.
From his black and white life, Vyom filled colors in the life of an imperfect girl diagnosed with Vitiligo.
I would now depart to enjoy all my time with him. We never know what tomorrow holds. But for now, in his company, I have learnt some painting too.
A large crowd, very exuberant, very enthusiastic, a horde creating all the buzz and....
A man amongst the boys!
When I entered college, he was my senior. He had a raw appeal on his face and his ear-to-ear smile was childlike. It was through a mutual friend of ours that we got introduced. Slowly, I got to know Vyom better. He would talk a lot on messengers but generally lived a low profile routine in a place where everyone owned a kingdom of their own.
Vyom was a step child born to his father's illicit relationship with another woman. One day he woke up and found out that his parents were no more. There and then, ceased the existence of a 'family' for him.
He never wanted to mention it but I could see right through his heart. He was happy because he had no one to advice him anymore. He could be the self made man he always wanted to be. Just that he hadn't had enough dough to sustain his living.
For his "first year" clothes were all that he could manage by selling off his paintings. The paintings which could only be a result of a master's stroke. He would go to a nearby NGO and put his paintings on exhibition there. For every 100 bucks that the painting earned, he would be paid 70. Vyom's paintings were a hit though. One day he exhausted his painting colors and he couldn't paint anymore. His earnings had dried up. He won't take a penny from me. He said he did not want to take on liabilities. I was happy for him to not return the money but that used to intensify anger in an otherwise calm person.
The irony of life was such that when his paintbrush asked to be fed, he did not have enough money to feed himself. We used to walk in a lone part of college. That is where I found peace. We had started to hold hands. I would tightly entangle my fingers with his and hours would pass by, just like that.
One day while we were walking, he disentangled our fingers and ran up to something. I followed him. He turned around and signaled me move away. He was doing something on a large folded paper he just took out from his pocket. At a distance, it was me looking with sufficient perplexity to lead to hysteria. After a while, he called me to witness a moment of unfathomable truce. Lying in front of me was a sand painting and sitting besides it was the artist.
His earnings were going to come back. He kept looking at the painting. The red sand, the fine pebbles and the yellow dust and an A1 size paper. That were the only paraphernalia he now required. His eyes were beaming.
"Necessity is the mother of invention", he came in line with it, the hard way.
Now if you ask me about myself, I am about to graduate this year and Vyom would take at least one year more in all possible likelihood (if he completes his engineering!). In the coming two months, I'm going to be out of this town, probably far away from Vyom.
Once I'm gone I don't know if he'd care. He has grown up in void of any company. I recently was away from college for a week. There was indifference in his attitude on my return. His tears have dried up and his expectations from anyone are at a bare minimum.
The other day when it went from breezy to windy to raining, we spent time in the shelter of a broken warehouse. We kissed before parting and he uncurled my tresses. Till date, that remains the most passionate moment I have with him.
From his black and white life, Vyom filled colors in the life of an imperfect girl diagnosed with Vitiligo.
I would now depart to enjoy all my time with him. We never know what tomorrow holds. But for now, in his company, I have learnt some painting too.
A large crowd, very exuberant, very enthusiastic, a horde creating all the buzz and....
A man amongst the boys!
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 08
Vyom.. Good to read a black and white diary painted with chosen words of pain. Initially, I was confused a bit, but when the story progressed I learnt why he will take at least one more year to complete his engineering. Let God bless him for a good life. Keep writing for BAT. Good luck!
ReplyDeleteSomeone is Special
Thanks SiS, good luck to you too.
DeleteIt was a roller coaster ride of colors, Animesh. I too felt that initial confusion. But I liked how you wrote it. All the best :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Leo. I believe this is your first time at my blog. Welcome!
DeleteAll the best. :)
:) good one :)
ReplyDeleteAll the best
My entry for BAT: Yamini Meduri-Color..!!!
Thanks Yamini. Good luck to you too.
DeleteSome people need few words and only a palette to make the world colorful.
ReplyDeleteAll the best for BAT 42
Cheers
CRD
True that, CRD.
DeleteLuck to you too! :)
Skillfully narrated tale Animesh. I loved the fact that the dearth of colors in Vyom's life never stopped him from painting the world around him.
ReplyDeleteAll the very best for BAT :)
Thanks Kriti. An able narrator appreciating my narration :D
DeleteI'm happy..
A man amongst the boys, yes Vyom was really!
ReplyDeleteHad an interesting read, Animesh. Your writing has a great power to hold your readers with mystery.
Wish you all the best!
Hey Simran, thanks a lot. Good luck to you too.
DeleteThe red sand, the fine pebbles and the yellow dust - that caught all the colours for me!
ReplyDeleteWriting in a girl's shoes - a round of applause for you!
Good luck for BAT!
Saanya: :) :)
DeleteI'm honoured ma'am, thank you. :)
nice one :)
ReplyDeleteThanks! :)
DeleteHad to read twice, and slowly.. you narrated it well Animesh.
ReplyDeleteAnd I also learnt the word vitiligo. Thanks buddy.
Thanks Kshitij. I'm glad you could take something out from my post.
DeleteHi Animesh,
ReplyDeleteI know I'm commenting here a little late, I'm sorry as I tried doing it earlier and couldn't.
Lovely story :) You have woven a beautiful picture here. Looking forward to reading more and more of such delighting pieces ! :)
Thanks Sreeja. I'm glad to have you here.
Delete