He had been at it for more than thirty minutes, head bent on a white sheet with a dark HB pencil in his hand. He began by drawing a big sharp arc followed by a few semi circles. Then he made some large strokes. At a few places, he made some gentler strokes. Like an expert artist, he then held his pencil in parallel to the sheet, dragged it down at one place, and slantingly at the other to form a shaded portion within the big arc to fill up the image. After a few more deft short strokes in and around the eye and the cheek, the sketch finally came alive. In the meantime, Jay Gupta, who had been sitting still to have his sketch prepared, had begun to show signs of edginess. He made gestures with his eyes to the sketch artist to hurry up. After a few minutes, the boy raised his pencil, placed it between his teeth and announced with the snap of his fingers that the sketch was ready. Jay Gupta got up, gathered his coat from the nearby chair and walked up to the boy.
” You took a lot of time, dear.” The boy held up the sketch for Jay Gupta to see.
” My words. What a wonderful piece of work!”
” You like it, sir?”
“Like it? Are you mad? I got one prepared recently from a well known sketch artist, but the damn fool messed it.”
“How much will you pay for it, sir?”
“Beyond what you expect, dear. But first tell me what your name is?”
” Akash.”
” Akash, you are a genius, man. Tell me, where do you study and what school you are in?”
” I am an orphan. I have never been to any school. I make a living out of drawing sketches. I get by whatever people offer me in exchange for making their sketches.”
Jay Gupta took some time to absorb what he heard. After a while, he asked Akash, if he would be happy to go to a school all expenses paid by him till such time he completed his education.
“Happy? But how long will you pay for my education?”
” This is not for you to worry, Akash. But I need you to promise me that you will never stop doing sketches.”
” I promise.”
Akash was a late starter in school education, but it never dampened his enthusiasm for studies. He was an outstanding learner. However, he showed exceptional ability in the craft of painting so much so that some of his paintings were accepted by his boarding school for display in the administrative block and the library. This was no small honour for Akash, and he made a promise to himself that day that he would continue to strive hard to be an exceptional artist of his generation.
Jay Gupta, on his part, kept his word and continued to pay for educational expenses of Akash. He never saw Akash again, however, he remained in contact with him through letters. Akash always made it a point to inform Jay Gupta about his performance in studies. Jay Gupta on the other hand never let go of an opportunity to ask him about what he had done to further refine the craft of sketching.
Akash aced the highly competitive examination for a graduation course in Sir JJ School of Art, Architecture and Design at Mumbai. When he got a scholarship from the Institute, he did not waste any time in requesting Jay Gupta to cease sending him money.
“Sir, it gives me immense pleasure to inform you that I have secured a place in the graduation course in the country’s elite institute of fine arts. The course is fully funded through a scholarship, and I have, as an added measure, also begun giving tuitions to the students. After carefully considering the resources that I will be able to secure from these two sources, I have come to the determination that I may not be in need of your assistance any longer. Be that as it may, I would like to convey my gratitude to you for your kind contribution to my education. It goes without saying that I wouldn’t be the person I am today were it not for you. I will keep writing to you as heretofore.
Cheers.
Yours always,
Akash.”
When Akash finished his course, he discovered that he had become better artist than when he had joined the course. The course had enabled him to do considerable experimentation with core elements of painting like colour, line, tone, shape and form and texture. He delved into all common painting mediums like oil painting, acrylic painting, water colors and gouache. Blessed as he was with a rebellious streak, he also did not restrict himself to any one particular art style. While relying on the elements of realism, impressionism and surrealism in his paintings, he also did not think twice before moving away from reality and using pure shapes, colours and lines to express concepts or emotions as opposed to physical objects.
For first three years of his course, Akash and Jay Gupta regularly corresponded with each other. From the address on the letters received from Jay Gupta, Akash noticed that Jay Gupta had set up his home in London. In the last year of his course, Akash found that Jay Gupta had begun to write to him occasionally- once in three months. He also discovered that his letters now bore the following address:
“Virginian Suites, Arlington, Virginia, United States.”
Five years after finishing his degree, Akash married a girl he had been dating for a couple of years. Shreya was a girl with large arms, small face and delicate features. She was a PR consultant in a communication firm in Mumbai. On their honeymoon, as she lay in the buff on the bed facing him, he moved her hand ever so gently from her shoulder right up to her toe, his hand rising and dipping with the curves and cuts of her body. She saw that he eyed her like a painter who earnestly surveyed his subject before dipping his brush in paints and splashing it on the canvas sheet like a possessed fakir. When he later made love to her, she likened her experience to a painting style in which a painter applies multiple layers of paints to a sheet and then uses sharp blades and knives to scratch or scrape away the paint revealing the underlying colours, lines, texture and incredible visual depth.
Akash meanwhile was making waves as a painter both in India and abroad. As his fan base increased globally, he received an invite for exhibiting his paintings in the National Gallery of London.
” Shreya, this is best thing that can happen to an artist.”
” What ? National Gallery of London?”
” Yes. How many actually get to live the dream in this space?”
A couple of months later, National Gallery of London hosted an exhibition of his paintings. The who’s who of the London city arrived at the gallery to the great joy of Akash. He stood at the centre of Sainsbury Wing of the Gallery wearing a three piece suit along with Shreya, who looked a stunner in her cream saree, welcoming the connoisseurs. Whenever someone beckoned him to describe a particular painting, Akash would rush to explain how the idea for that painting crossed his mind and what elements were used to bring it into existence. On one occasion, when he was busy explaining the theme underlying one of his paintings to a middle aged visitor, he had someone tap on his right shoulder. He turned around and was met by a man in his eighties, dressed immaculately in a dark blue suit and wearing a cap. He had a walking stick in his right hand.
” How can I help you?”
” Are you the artist, son?”
” Yes.”
” The one in the far right corner, I would like to buy. What’s the damage?”
” One thousand pounds. Can I ask you why that painting of all the paintings on display?”
” Son, I have been in the business of buying and selling paintings for longer than you have been alive. That painting appears to have evolved from a sketch. You understand what I mean?”
” No.”
” Son, sketch is the basic thing. If you get it right, rest is the easy part. You know about the art, I guess you do, where blades and knives are used to scratch and scrape the paint so the underlying image emerges. No colours. No paints. That’s real talent. Many years ago, I discovered a small kid in Jammu who could sketch like it was a walk in the park. That dude is also a painter. I am forgetful these days- my advanced age, you know. His name escapes me at the moment.”
Akash fell at his feet and clutched them tightly. His emotions getting the better of him. Startled, Shreya bent down to stand Akash up.
Akash got up to embrace the old man, almost scaring him in the process.
“What happened, son?”
” I am the same small kid you discovered in Jammu.”
And the old man felt the embrace tighten around his frail trunk.