I realise how clueless I am right now, with an empty canvas and a blank palette in front of me.
"Which colour should I pick up?, " I wonder.
"Blue one or the purple one? Or both?"
I pick up the purple one first, then I go for the blue one. White one follows after that. I aimlessly paint some lines on the canvas.
"What now?," I wonder.
"White paint in between the dark shades, how would that look? "
I end up putting the white colour in between the dark ones.
Nothing makes sense now, but these colours look so beautiful on this canvas,
I assure myself.
Nothing makes sense now, but these colours look so beautiful on this canvas,
I assure myself.
As I'm wondering what to do next, I accidentally put the brush dipped in purple paint in the other bottle whose lid is open.
'Oh no! I have ruined this colour,' I murmur.
And I suddenly remember something.
And I suddenly remember something.
I remember how this used to happen during childhood. Putting the coloured brushes in any bottle, without even thinking of the consequences.
How innocent and carefree were we, back then.
How innocent and carefree were we, back then.
This is how the Sundays used to be for me. One day meant to be spent with the different strokes of colour! :)
On one Sunday morning, dad took me to some drawing competition, where I played with all the colours and coloured something very stupid and ended up painting myself in the process. I did not care about the outcome. In fact, I wasn't even aware of what the competition was for. I submitted my sketch with a broad smile on my face. The teacher too had a good laugh.
Once, in an attempt to follow a girl in an advertisement, I had put detergent in a water bucket. In my defense, my intentions were very clear. I was going to make a tent out of that experiment. :P "Aaj hum tent banayenge ", was my only motto. But my aaji had no idea, what I was upto, so she picked me up from the bathroom and snatched the bedsheets from my hands ( which I was about to put in the bucket).
Oh, the good old days!
On some days, we used to play video games with dad. Me, my sister and my dad, we were the dream team! (obviously, only in my head :P ). Later, I found out that I was 'the kaccha limbu', so I used to be the last one at every game. But still, it used to be so much fun!
Back then, Mixing two colours and ruining the colour bottles was never an issue. Not getting to play or being the last one to play was still okay for me. Being wrong or being stupid was okay for me. Making mistakes was always the fun part!
'Why do I care so much now, for the things that don't matter much? Why can't I go back to being so carefree?'
I have all these thoughts in my head as I dip the brush in that previously ruined bottle.
"This isn't ruined now, this is just a new shade that I happen to have invented, " I tell myself.
And I put it on the canvas with a mischievous smile on my face, just to discover how it ends up being. :P
