Art on the train
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| Digital illustration is not in my comfort zone so thought I'd take a shot at it :) |
There was a little girl on my train once
She colored a man yellow
Took my sketchbook and my markers
While an old passenger did bellow
“She’s ruining your book, Don’t give it to her
Whoever heard of a real live man
Being colored completely yellow!”
The girl looked at me worried
Waiting for a rebuke
I just looked at her and smiled
So she went back to my sketchbook.
She next drew me a landscape
A town of yellow houses
A four coloured rainbow with two clouds
In bold lines without pauses.
“Have you ever seen houses so tawdry
So out of whack and childish?”
The old man scolded and grumbled
We paid no heed and enjoyed ourselves
While the train in the tunnel rumbled.
This was an annoying encounter for me on the train from Hoshangabad to Bangalore. I have met a great many kids in my train journeys and invariably,when they see my sketchbook, they want to draw or color in it too.
I met Arushi in a crowded train. She was playing with the other kids when she saw me sketching her father. Curious,she looked at me and I smiled. She slowly crept up to me to see what I was doing. She must have been no older than eight years. She had a beautiful smile which lit up her whole face and that amazing vitality that kids have at that age, with bright sparkling eyes. She shyly asked me if she could draw in my book. I gave it to her. We were having a gala time with her coloring some of my pencil sketches, and prattling away about her school teachers, when an old man who was watching us asked her to show it. Then it began. An adult's disapproval of a child's way of seeing. He told me she was ruining my book, that she didn't know to draw, that she was using all the wrong colors.
Why should we find it in our heads to always 'school' children? Why can't we let them be and allow them to do a little exploring on their own? I could see Arushi's smile wane and a cloud of doubt pass over her eyes. It's not nice to see insecurity reflected in a child's eyes. As if there isn't enough in the world to make you question your self-worth without having to do that when you are eight years old and excited about discovering new things. Thankfully, as with kids, the moment passed. She just asked me once if I liked the drawing. I told her I loved it. That seemed to be all the assurance that she needed. She ignored the old man and the world and went back to her drawing. Then she drew me this - The Gost ( Read Ghost) - "Didi, bohot daravana hai na?"
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| The "Gost" |
PS - This is also homage to an earring I lost in Nainital ( which I am wearing in the illustration) :( RIP and miss you, dear earring. There is no one like you ( Well, except your counterpart which is rather sad and lonely without you.)
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