Your Adorable Artist
- Writers Pouch
- Feb 14, 2023
- 19 min read
I: The Tale of Bitter Truth
Glaring at the drizzling grey clouds, Naina stood at the entrance of her home drenched in her wet school uniform. She was determined to confront her mother today with the question that had been burning her for months.
Meanwhile, for the tenth time, she heard her grandfather plead with her to change her clothes & drink some hot milk, but she didn’t want to. She first wanted the answer. So she asked him again, “Where is papa?” & he remained as silent as he was throughout the way when he picked her up from school.
The old one knew that his granddaughter was as stubborn as his daughter. Perhaps even a little more & he could not think of a way to calm her. He presumed that the children in the class might have asked about it because the teachers wouldn’t. They knew the truth & his daughter made sure of it.
Rukmini was back home after work as he thought of ways to pacify his granddaughter. Approaching the entrance, she could see Naina waiting by the door. Noticing her, she knew that evening wouldn’t be so leisurely.
Before she even stepped inside, Naina shouted, “Mama, where is papa!”
Glancing at the old one, Rukmini took a deep breath. Before she spoke, her father warned, “She is too young.”
All her life, Rukmini was also lied to by her parents in the hope that she was protected. But sooner rather than later, the truth about their debt flipped her life.
Kneeling before her blood, Rukmini replied, “Your father...”
The old one interrupted her to presage, “She cannot handle it.”
Realising it was folly to protect a coward, Rukmini continued, “Your father left us, Naina.”
Listening to her father’s smear, Rukmini shouted, “Let her know that her father isn’t...”
She held her words for a second before continuing in a quieter tone, “That he isn’t a beacon of hope or an ideal of trust to look up to.”
“Feed your child with such poison & she will become bitter & senseless.” noted the old one.
Stepping inside, Rukmini replied, “Leagues better than live a lie until reality breaks her down.”
Concluding the sentence, she realised it wasn’t time to fight her battles but instead help the little one. Looking at her with eyes filled with tears, Rukmini hugged her.
Holding her mother tightly, Naina faintly whispered, “How could he leave us?” & Rukmini couldn’t help but relive the moment she hated the most. The moment her husband stepped out of their home, leaving her & their baby for the love of his life.
II: The Tale of a Lamenting Artist
Looking out the window, Naina could see the black clouds roaring and the winds invading their city but not a drop of rain. She stood before her Professor in his chamber as he skimmed through her submission. She knew her work would ensure reprimanding, but she couldn’t help herself from writing it.
Ever since she lost her grandfather about a year ago, her life has not been the same. He was the only force protecting her by projecting confidence & with his loss, Naina failed in everything. Her moral support vanished, and her mother sought help than offered some.
Putting her submission down, the Professor exclaimed, “Yet another monologue, Naina?”
Cutting her eye contact, Naina remained silent & leaning back in his chair the Professor continued, “Readers are not in for your therapy, lady.”
What could she say? That her mother has lost herself completely? Or that her loneliness was eating her creativity? Or that she loved to live in the past rather than face the present? What could she say?
Adjusting his glasses, the Professor expressed, “We all write about ourselves, but the mastery of enclosing the truth with a false reality makes us professional, lady. I’m afraid you are..”
Hoping to defend herself, Naina interrupted, “I’m going through a lot, sir.”
“So are we all. You don’t see me doing mediocre work,” the Professor reacted with a smile.
Waiting for a moment & witnessing her muteness, the Professor continued, “My kindness won’t spare the wolves out there from judging you, Naina. Men who never wailed a day in agony to jot a sentence will be ready to fling their criticism within seconds.”
Standing up, he gave Naina her submission before concluding, “If you still want to be traditionally published, do not complain or convince. Just let them live in your world & they will appreciate your work.”
With a small nod & a blank expression, Naina took her submission before leaving the room. As she walked back, she recalled how over the years, she was told that all her heroes do not have a parent figure & her protagonists often seek answers that make no difference.
However, Naina convinced herself that only those characters motivated her to write more. When someone complained about recurring patterns in her stories, she defended them by telling herself, “There is nothing wrong with it.”
When her mind questioned her actions, she quietened it by thinking, “What’s wrong with expressing characters through her own experiences?”
Even after that, if her mind continued, she replied to herself, “I don’t care! I’ll write whatever I want. However, I want to. As long as I relish whatever I write, I don’t see any problem!”
But for the first time, Naina wondered if her mind was right. Maybe her Professor meant to say that it wasn’t. Maybe all those years of arrogance & ego-boosting might not have been the best thing for her. She told herself that perhaps it would be wise to get help & live beyond the trauma of abandonment.
III: The Tale of a Questionnaire
Listening to the raindrops & smelling the sweet sand’s fragrance, Naina lay on her bed looking at the ceiling. Feeling the cold air through the window, she recalled Nihal’s question, “Did she honestly deserve it?”
For a while, she could not understand how her supervisor only perceived her mother as a fictional character & nothing more. It was not the first work she showed to him & it was nothing but a little different from the rest of them in the past. She was curious as to why Nihal asked this question today.
It has been six months since she finished college & if not for her Professor, she would have joined the master’s program. However, he advised, “Collaborate with a published author Naina & maybe your passions could be put to the right use.”
Saying so, he suggested working with Nihal Nayan, the author of “Duality”, and Naina knew no bounds to her happiness when Mr Nihal even agreed to take her as an apprentice. Since her first day, the only rule Nihal had was that Naina must write a thousand words every day & if a day came when she missed, that would be her last day.
For a long time, Naina ensured that her submissions did not reveal her personal life & she followed her Professor’s advice of fictionalising her submissions to their best. Nonetheless, Naina didn’t know what got into her one day. She finally wrote down the story of her father walking away from her mother. Maybe it’s her undying desire within that wanted to visualise the moment. Perhaps she wanted to live the moment that haunted her once.
Today when she hesitantly gave in her submission, Nihal knew it would be fascinating. When he read it in the afternoon, he asked, “Could you tell me more about the woman who was left behind in this story, Naina?”
Anticipating the response, Naina grinned. She thought to herself to not overpower her mother. So she replied, “A strong independent woman holding onto her beliefs no matter what life throws at her. What more can I say?”
Taking off his reading glasses & placing them on the rectangular table that separated them, Nihal asked, “Do you believe in destiny or karma, Naina?”
Since this was the first time someone asked her about it, Naina thought for a moment before saying, “I believe we reap what we sow.”
Bending towards the table and resting his chin on his fists, Nihal’s gaze intensified as he asked, “Then do you really think this woman deserved it?”
Staring into his dark black eyes that seemed like the night sky, Naina remained silent. A moment later, Nihal continued, “Writers are playing Gods when they define characters Naina. Though we fancy the twists & turns, we promote hope because it is worth it.”
Though Naina nodded, her speechlessness was due to the worm that just crept into her mind about her mother’s tale. For the first time, she wondered, what if her father walked away because her mother might not have been as faithful or responsible as she claims to be?
But now as she lay on her bed, it no longer seemed like a suspicion.
IV: The Tale of a Truth-teller
Looking out the glass, Naina could see the grey clouds pour heavily while the scent of the coffee lit up the evening. Though she wasn’t interested in meeting Shiva, everyone around them, including her mother, wholeheartedly wished they would become a couple.
Facing her was a lean man with an oval face decked in a light blue shirt wearing rimless glasses, cutting through the fruit cake with his fork. Taking a bite, he said, “So, Naina, before you decide if I am worthy, I would like to confess that I was once in a relationship.”
A smile appeared on Naina’s face for the first time in twenty minutes. Glancing her twinkling eyes, Shiva continued, “I want you to know that we have been together emotionally & physically but had to part ways because she could not present me at her home as an entrepreneur.”
