Story of likeness and trust! Chapter- 21
XXI
I woke up and it was daylight already kissing the walls of my room. I had slept through the night as a little child. Hugging myself with my arms grabbing my chest. It was cold in Delhi, the temperatures had dipped past Shimla, Mussorie; the hill stations where people go to witness cold. This time, Shimla and Mussorie had thought it better to visit these people. How sweet, isn't it? Yet, harsh I feel. For the people out there on the pavements and roadsides, in this biting cold.
There was a smile on my face as I realised a blanket had been on me. I was certain, my father must have done that. He wasn't sweet always, but like me; he too was emotional. He must have been in guilt for the way he treated me the previous day. I searched the house but my mother wasn't there. I understood that, she would have gone to visit her brother, who wasn't keeping too well those days. As I went up to pick the morning newspaper that I saw was placed on the dining table, my eyes met my father's sight. He was in the drawing room, alone. I sat there, read newspaper; scrolled through the pages, and very curiously started reading one article. I had bowed a hello to my dad and he had replied in similar tones to me. In no time, he asked me what article I was so much engrossed in?
"Pa, it's the entertainment section of the paper. You know Bryan Adams, right? He's touring India in January. The dates are 14th, 15th and 17th. First he will come to Delhi, and later Mumbai. The venue in Delhi is, The Talkatora Stadium." My face just glittered, and he kept on staring at me. I soon left him alone in the drawing room to prepare for my first day at work, in the new company. I polished my shoes, wore a tie and I could feel a lot of power in myself. That day was just auspicious. I thought, a good start of the day would take the spirits forward.
My motorbike, Bajaj Pulsar 150 CC, was the perfect companion to me in all my journeys. Soon I left for my office. As I entered the office premises, the security guard saluted me. It felt as if, my lost pride was back once again. Like, I said; a perfect start to the day, would make the events roll by in the similar fashion. So, the cycle of events continued to roll. My manager, gave me a good insight into the company and how they worked. They were happy with me, and so was I. A new place, was all I was waiting for. Also, in this company the working hours were lesser. This made me more than satisfied yet again. This had meant that I could return back home earlier and continue practicing newer songs and tones on my guitar. The thought of music gave me merriment and gave me an edge over the sad thoughts of the previous days. I was better off, in style and in confidence; because I knew from this very point I were to rise. I had known my road. I had to practice, I had to regain my lost wisdom in my art. I wanted it all to come back to me. Someone has well said this, that when you give love to your art, it returns that love to you. The love, either in the form of sensational, mellifluent songs, for a musician or as a painting to remember for lifetime for a painter. Art had its magic, it took the heart away. Same had my art done to me.
That day, turned out to be really good. Realisation made it all for me, realisation of my love for my art. All memories, attached with my art had consumed me, all the while. Life was a blessing, I thought and continued to practice and love my art.
To be continued--
Next in,
(Chapter- 22) At,
Time: 8:00 A.M.
Date: 01/01/2015
Happy New Year! :)
From, Artist Address in advance :)
I woke up and it was daylight already kissing the walls of my room. I had slept through the night as a little child. Hugging myself with my arms grabbing my chest. It was cold in Delhi, the temperatures had dipped past Shimla, Mussorie; the hill stations where people go to witness cold. This time, Shimla and Mussorie had thought it better to visit these people. How sweet, isn't it? Yet, harsh I feel. For the people out there on the pavements and roadsides, in this biting cold.
There was a smile on my face as I realised a blanket had been on me. I was certain, my father must have done that. He wasn't sweet always, but like me; he too was emotional. He must have been in guilt for the way he treated me the previous day. I searched the house but my mother wasn't there. I understood that, she would have gone to visit her brother, who wasn't keeping too well those days. As I went up to pick the morning newspaper that I saw was placed on the dining table, my eyes met my father's sight. He was in the drawing room, alone. I sat there, read newspaper; scrolled through the pages, and very curiously started reading one article. I had bowed a hello to my dad and he had replied in similar tones to me. In no time, he asked me what article I was so much engrossed in?
"Pa, it's the entertainment section of the paper. You know Bryan Adams, right? He's touring India in January. The dates are 14th, 15th and 17th. First he will come to Delhi, and later Mumbai. The venue in Delhi is, The Talkatora Stadium." My face just glittered, and he kept on staring at me. I soon left him alone in the drawing room to prepare for my first day at work, in the new company. I polished my shoes, wore a tie and I could feel a lot of power in myself. That day was just auspicious. I thought, a good start of the day would take the spirits forward.
My motorbike, Bajaj Pulsar 150 CC, was the perfect companion to me in all my journeys. Soon I left for my office. As I entered the office premises, the security guard saluted me. It felt as if, my lost pride was back once again. Like, I said; a perfect start to the day, would make the events roll by in the similar fashion. So, the cycle of events continued to roll. My manager, gave me a good insight into the company and how they worked. They were happy with me, and so was I. A new place, was all I was waiting for. Also, in this company the working hours were lesser. This made me more than satisfied yet again. This had meant that I could return back home earlier and continue practicing newer songs and tones on my guitar. The thought of music gave me merriment and gave me an edge over the sad thoughts of the previous days. I was better off, in style and in confidence; because I knew from this very point I were to rise. I had known my road. I had to practice, I had to regain my lost wisdom in my art. I wanted it all to come back to me. Someone has well said this, that when you give love to your art, it returns that love to you. The love, either in the form of sensational, mellifluent songs, for a musician or as a painting to remember for lifetime for a painter. Art had its magic, it took the heart away. Same had my art done to me.
That day, turned out to be really good. Realisation made it all for me, realisation of my love for my art. All memories, attached with my art had consumed me, all the while. Life was a blessing, I thought and continued to practice and love my art.
To be continued--
Next in,
(Chapter- 22) At,
Time: 8:00 A.M.
Date: 01/01/2015
Happy New Year! :)
From, Artist Address in advance :)
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