Don't Let Them Colors FadeA Story by Hidden Happiness
Just something about how our real talents sometimes remains unexposed.
'Now green, to restore some of the peace in my life', my heart said as it led my paintbrush into the big dollop of green. I laughed as i thought about what i just said. Peace, is that even possible in this world? That is just possible in my paintings.
I slowly ran the paintbrush as my heart led me. It was a picture of a tree and around it were more trees but this one stood with its head held high while the others were stunted. It represented me. The other short ones- they represented the doctors, engineers and the army officers that my dad talked about. I chuckled and said ' look at that ,dad, i am bigger that them'.
Yes, i talk to myself.I don't have anyone else to talk to. Dad says i am a disgrace. 'Being the daughter of a military officer, you waste your time in rubbish' he would say. He gets me home-schooled because he does not want his colleagues to know what a wasted, little piece of s**t his daughter is.
Sometimes when i go out, i see the neighbors staring at me like i am some unknown creature. I don't accuse them, i hardly ever go out. I am more than happy with my paintbrush, I can spend days just working over the same picture. I just wished someone would know. Someone could teach me. Someone could tell me how to make it better. Someone who...
I heard the door slam. Dad was home. Then some footsteps and there he was. I saw his face getting red and his knuckles turning white. I found it really interesting- even the human body plays with colors.
'You should be studying', he slowly whispered, his voice shaking.
'I can see you had a fight with somebody. why don't you go take some rest? I'll make you some tea', i slowly said, still not putting the paintbrush down.
Then he got really angry, like too much angry. The next thing i knew he pushed me aside, took the picture from the canvas and threw it with such force that it slid to one corner of the room. I stared at the picture. It was like someone had thrown my child away like that. I got used to the humiliation but when he did something to my paintings, it felt as if someone was cutting my heart out with a butter knife.
He pointed his finger right at me, his hands shaking and his face still red. 'You'll throw this rubbish away and you will start studying. And if you don't, you obnoxious dumb little piece of s**t, i swear..',he was looking for words i guess..
' What will you do dad? What?Can't you just provide my food for one more year? I'll move out then. I don't ask for anything. I've been wearing the same clothes for three years..three f*****g years. And i still don't ask for anything. Did I ever ask for your love? You've always ignored me ever since mom left. The last time you hugged me was when i was seven. And I never said anything, never!' I was crying then. I had never cried since seven, when mom left, when dad became the cruel man that he is now, when my life changed.
'Why do you hate me so much? I never bothered you with my painting. And why can't you appreciate it,huh? Look at Leonardo Da Vinci, look at Rabindranath, look at all the people who are famous because of their paintings. Aren't they human beings? Are they aliens dad?' i screamed. I had never let my heart out like this.
Dad just stared at me with a cold look. He was not shaking now, he was much calmer. Then as if nothing happened, he said in a calm voice,'Just one more year and then i don't know you'.
Well there you go, I've made my food arrangement. He left the room, slamming the room behind him. I wiped my tears out, i felt relieved. It was like a 80 pound stone was lifted from my heart. He spoke out his mind and so did I. Now that he made me aware of his intentions I could prepare myself for that. No I'm not talking about the pain, there was some kind of anti-venom around my heart. It had stopped feeling hurt and insulted long time back.
I looked at the picture lying at one corner of the room. I slowly walked to it as I picked it up as lovingly as a mother picks up her child. No, he had not caused any damage. I put it back in my canvas and started painting again. I sighed. I am back in peace. I am back to paradise.
© 2012 Hidden Happiness
wonderland, words city
AboutUmmm what to say, well writing along with music has been my best friends who helped me out in every difficulty, picked me up when I was down and wiped away my tears to put a smile on my face. I love r.. more..
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