There was something elusive about sunsets which made it
impossible for him to recreate it on paper. The girls he’d been with told him
maybe he should use colours. He didn’t think so. He had in his drawing book
sketches of countless landscapes he’d done in pencil and it never bothered him
that he didn’t capture the colours brimming in them. There was a simplicity in
his sketches which was profound in its own… but not sunsets. He never could
render it’s magnificience faithfully on paper. It was not the lack of colour he
felt. A sunset didn’t need many colours. Using colours won’t make it any
better, he told himself. It was something else that was missing… and he hadn’t
figured it out yet. So everyday he’d stuff his shoulder bag with his tools…
pencils, a whole lot of them… 4H, H , HB, 2B, 4B, 5B… an eraser and a few
drawing books… and walk along marine drive till his mind’s eye agreed with the
vantage point… and then he’d wait… for the sun to start drowning in the
horizon. Once it did, he’d take out his books and pencils and lose himself in
it… till he looked up and didn’t see the sun anymore.
It was no different
today. Once the sun had deserted the horizon, he put his pencils back and
picked up his work. He’d chosen to draw in one of his bigger books today. He
held it up and looked… just looked… kept looking at it for a long time… his
face a mask… betraying no emotion... his frame still… it seemed he wasn’t even
breathing. Long after the sky turned black and the stars came out, he put it
down and let out a sigh. Today was not the day he got his sunset. Lost in
dismay he closed his eyes and consoled himself… One day I’ll get it right… he thought. He opened his eyes and
welcomed the sights around him. To either side of him marine drive stretched
endlessly in a curve… streetlights alive all along… like someone had put on a
golden necklace on the Arabian sea. He took it all in… the vehicles racing by,
the high rises, the windows on them, the lights in them, a billion people doing
a billion things under the lights… this city never slept.
He gathered up his things and stood up. He tore up his
interpretation of the day’s sunset from his book and left it there where he had
sat… and started walking. He never kept anything which was less than perfect.
The wind would blow it into the sea and it would drown to fathoms below like
the sun did a while ago… or a peanut seller would find it and use it to wrap
peanuts without even looking at it once… he didn’t put much thought to where it
would end up. He had left so many sunset sketches behind he didn’t care
anymore. It was an imperfect piece of art and it would find it’s final resting
place in some imperfect grave.
**********
He’d walked some thirty feet or so when he remembered he’d
left the eraser where he sat. He turned around and retraced his steps… all the
while thinking about the next day’s sunset. He stopped dead in his tracks when
he saw a woman sitting where he was a few minutes ago… a girl actually… she had
his sketch in his hands and was studying it intently… the scarf around her neck
being blown around by the breeze coming in from the sea. He couldn’t see her
face from where he was… she was wearing a white sleeveless top and a sky blue
skirt… or was it denims… he started walking towards her… it was a skirt infact…
sky blue with some silver patterns… he liked it, it was pretty. He approached
from behind… she was still studying his sketch. He looked over her shoulder at
the sketch he’d discarded… did she see something in it which he didn’t? he
searched… but a streetlight behind had cast his shadow onto it and she turned
to see this tall, lanky guy hovering over her. She didn’t flinch. He stared
unsure… detecting maybe the hint of a smile held back by force on her face.
‘ I forgot my eraser
‘, he broke the silence between them. She searched around her for a few seconds
and held it up for him when she found it. He took it from her and put it inside
his bag. He looked at her again. She was beautiful… slightly darker shade of
brown… bespectacled… yet the eyes beneath speaking volumes… thin, a little too
thin perhaps… like himself he thought. A few more moments of silence later he
looked away and started to walk. Two small steps later he heard a voice as
sweet as honey drift towards him asking ‘ Why
do you leave them behind? ‘. Stumped as he was by the question, the
revelation within it was not lost on him. ‘ Them?
‘, he asked looking back at her. She didn’t realize her slip and stared at him.
‘ You said them, not it, which if I
know my grammar correctly is a plural. ‘, he said. Comprehension dawned on
her and she couldn’t hold back a blush. ‘ I,
uh.. ’, he saw her struggle with the explanation and thought he should put
her out of the misery… he said, ‘ Have you
been stalking me stealing my sketches? ‘, a grin evident on his face.
‘ I didn’t steal
them. You left them behind. ‘, she had a sheepish look on her face. ‘ So you thought you could take them? ‘,
he asked amused by this beautiful girl in front of him. She didn’t speak. ‘ How many do you have? ‘, he continued
his interrogation. ‘ Six. ‘, she said
after a long pause. He wasn’t expecting that and found himself at a loss for
words.
Who is
this girl? Why does she keep my sketches? What more does she see in them than I
do? How could a discarded piece of an unsuccessful attempt at art be of more
importance to a stranger more than the artist? His
mind was crowded with questions… but he didn’t voice them. He didn’t want to intimidate
her with more questions… and he was a little weary of the answers he might get.
So he said, ‘ it’s okay, you can keep
them. ‘. The relief that showed on her face at that flowed over to his… but
shortly paved way to a new dilemma… What
do I say now!
He needn’t have worried for she spoke, ‘ There’s a Mc D over there… are you hungry?
‘
**********
