Monday, September 22, 2008

Chitrakaley

[..and this time they colored]

All my shishyas at Prerana probably had too much fun last saturday at the painting competition i had organised in co-ordination with the IEEE Student branch of our college..their 'good-morning akka' since then has got a li'l too loud and their smiles broader too!


They had drawn what all kids usually draw - houses with windows and no doors,fans that are visible even from the outer wall,pots with flowers,blue,pink and yellow hills shown in perfect triangles..



...the sun bordered black,cartoons,trees and innumerous birds covering the whole sky,Indian flag colored with colors of their choice,streams starting nowhere and ending right in front of the houses..fish,kites,butterflies..and all..


Madhu had drawn all this too..
His painting was not so neat..one can find it almost too shabby..
But he had a story to tell- His own.



He gestured that the boy waiting for the car in the painting was him and it would take him home - his home which has a tree, a pot and a rain water ditch..hills, a sky with a lot of birds and a sun.

Maybe he misses his parents though he has spent very li'l of his 8 years with them..

P.S -
1. Many said that this whole idea of the painting competition was a "Taare Zamin Par idea".I think i'd have come up with the same idea even if there was no TZP. Well,whatever..But, now please don't start comparing madhu with ishan awasthi :)
2. Many asked what those who couldn't color did..the singing competition was for them all.
3. Thanks to all my juniors who helped in organising things well - specially to vijith,maya,rajath,pradhan and vivek.
4. Madhu won in the 5-10yr category.There were neater paintings than madhu's,but none with a story like his..

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Ziddi

He beamed as he held her hands in his and looked at them..'An artist she really is..' he thought as he delved into the details of the fine curves and the crisp maroon-red lines running across..

Her hands were not as soft nor as delicate.She knew that he was distasteful of her hands..an aversion he had for they never looked as beautiful as her face. The too many lines that cris-crossed made them look almost ugly and old..but,she'd thought they were warm.Warm enough.

She could see he was happy with her hands..Today that her hands were colored.

'Put them all the time' he said and with childish pleasure,he looked out for all the letters their names had hidden in the geometry of lines.
In a Disguise the lines would not look as bad..
He was too occupied to take notice of her.A tear welled up and rolled down her cheek and She looked away.
                                                  
                                                        ----

Back home,she scrubs her hands.Harder each time.
They are adamant. Some song sings in her mind..
Ziddi hai armaan.Ziddi hai toofaan.
Ziddi hum bhi yahaan.


The color only fades a li'l..But,she knows that when it fades completely,it will be gone forever..and not a trace will it leave of its existence..much unlike the scars - deep and dark..