I dunno why I'm writing this. Just wanted to write something. Anything.
P.S - KaSh are both AR AND AS for me
The Perfect Painting
She was like the perfect painting. Every artist's dream - including mine. Everything about her spelled 'perfect'. Her lips curved in the most beautiful smile, her cheeks glowed like the morning sun, and her eyes still mystified me. They seemed different each time I looked into them. It was as if all the colours in the universe could be assembled only in her eyes.
She passed by me like a soft breeze every day, and just like the wind cannot be caught, she slipped past me like air and I just stood there, cherishing her scent for as long as I could.
I am an artist. I love it. Because I saw her. Being an artist gave me the oppurtunity to see her, to study the perfect blend of colours that she was. But I can't talk to her. You see, I'm an artist. I have the talent and I have the creativity, but I don't have the guts.
Standing on the bridge over the Seine river, with my canvas and my pack of paints, I looked at my watch. She should be here in 5 minutes. Her face is my inspiration. I've been observing her face for a while now. Her potrait would be my masterpiece. Every artist's life is marked by that one masterpiece. Mine will be marked by her.
I see her face emerge from the masses, and a smile touches upon my lips even before I know it. And like every day, the first thing that I notice about her is her eyes. They seem happy today. I associate blue colour with happiness. They were blue today.
She kept coming closer, and I tried my best to hide my staring. She passed by me, and I smiled. I knew I was going to be happy today.
What shade should I paint her with? I was in a dilemma. Should it be happy? sad? passionate? angry? I don't know. Whenever I came close to deciding the shade, it fell short of perfection. That night, I didn't sleep. I kept making a rough potrait of her in my mind, blending in different moods to capture her essence. By morning, I had had 5 cups of coffee and the all nighter had resulted in nothing.
And then I looked at a blank canvas. Then it struck me. Her perfection would lie in grey. The masterpiece would not be a colourful painting, it would simply be a sketch. No colour was adequate enough to capture her beauty. Charged up with excitement, I started working on it right from that moment.
2 weeks and 5 days later, the sketch was ready. By no means, was it perfect. But I had realized that perfection lies in imperfection. I was proud of one thing. I had managed to capture her eyes. They were neither sad nor happy. Not angry or passionate. Just..solemn. Quiet.
Later that evening, I waited for her on the bridge as usual. At exactly 5:30 pm, I saw her face. This was the moment. I was going to give the painting to her and let her know how much I admire her. The scroll felt heavy in my hands. I fidgeted like a small school boy about to submit his first project. I decided not to stop her in her path. I'd follow her to her destination, and so would my masterpiece.
She passed by me, and I started to follow her with a grin on my face. It didn't bother me as to what the distance might be. Afterall, this was the moment. I'd go to any length to make sure it's perfect.
As we turned around the corner, she stopped near a cafe and started looking for someone. Who was she looking for? My brows furrowed in confusion as my eyes followed her gaze. Someone came behind her and tapped on her shoulder. She jumped a little and turned around. Her hand went upto her chest and she said something to the man. Probably telling him how startled she had been. And then she smiled and hugged the man. After breaking apart from the hug, she said something to him. I understood those words.
And that is when my world came crashing down.
I love you. Such simple yet powerful words. She hugged him once again as I hung my head low and looked at the painting. The painting that was supposed to be my masterpiece, now seemed to have lost all it's value. It was just a mere piece of paper.
I looked up once again, this time, with tears brimming in my eyes. She had hooked her hands behind his neck and was kissing him softly. I slowly turned around, and walked back to the bridge. Staring down at the river, I held up the painting and threw it into the water without looking at it. As it dissolved, the sketch slowly faded away.
She was the perfect painting. I was just too smitten by it to see the painter standing right behind.
_____________________________
P.S - No names. I know. But it's AR. Remember that 😛
P.P.S - Inspiration from the song:
[YOUTUBE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOgH8yTt1-A[/YOUTUBE]
P.P.P.S - please comment even though it's trashy. it's dedicated to me since my birthday's coming up. haha.
P.P.P.P.S - My god. is it really that short? 😕
Edited by CZ.. - 13 years ago
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