I had always celebrated people who walked into my life and made a difference, added a different dimension to it, gave me a new perspective. I had always written about people who made their presence felt, gave their two hoots for what I was doing and going through.
This piece isn’t me glorifying one such person, it is just a note about someone who did leave a mark, perhaps left a sketch; that would sound more appropriate.
I had never understood the arts, although I knew who Picasso was; art to me was just music and comedy. Sketching and painting and drawing lines on paper: they all seemed the same. Foolish of me, foolish still; one can’t expect more from a person who can’t draw a straight line, she could though, she could draw and sketch and paint; and did it really well.
It was just another friend request notification on Facebook, she did look pretty although the dp showed some odd black and white sketch, and going by the kind of person I was back then: who preferred networking to reach out to potential audience of his comedy, I went ahead and clicked the accept button. The beginning of a friendship it was, over art: which I didn’t understand and comedy: which she never enjoyed. The one common thing that connected us both was depression, sad thoughts and mental health. Well, I have always believed an artist can’t be genuinely happy, there has to be this unending sense of loss and deprivation within a person to be able to do justice to art. We still have our arguments on the same, she paints when she’s happy but she paints better when she hits her lowest. She’s hard to convince, but I’ll take it anyway.
Mental health and art aside; she did paint for me once; something which only she could pull off. It was perfect to the ‘T’, yet another instance of her understanding what I wanted her art to be like; the green and the yellow and the white: all merged into one to create a piece which made the receiver emotional too. Sheer brilliance!!
She’d call me to discuss her projects, discuss art and discuss life. She’d talk of unrequited love and the bliss that it promised, that surely made her the artist she were; the person she is: her ability to withstand herself and the travesties of life. She like her obsession with charcoal art is all white and black: her shades of grey suppressed deep within her, not showing on the surface.
She’d console me and counsel me on life, relationships and art obviously. She’d try to help me in seeing sense in the chaos I so much loved, a friend; philosopher and guide she’s been. From putting sense into my head to helping me realise that pain can be an ornament: she did influence my form of art too. While, I always had my muse; she helped me understand the importance of it. The process of letting go and the enchantment that came along, she the artist and the friend did teach me stuff.
The sad thoughts can linger within, the joy of art will forever stay. Thank you artist, you did etch a line that’ll forever stay.
abhishek purkayastha 