“Drawing something? What is it?”
It’s not something. It’s ‘nothing’
You’re drawing nothing?
“No, but I’m drawing something that is nothing.”
What exactly is this?
“What do you see?”, she paused and looked up.
I see… nothing.
“Exactly that!”, she bent her head, and continued with the drawing. Her fingers moved smoothly on the sheet in a calm manner; a distinct fashion which was so her-like.
It was always a moment’s work for her to get oblivious if she decides. She can forget what surrounds, numb herself, ignore everything and everyone without showing it. I have seen her disappear in crowds just like that— not physically, but mentally. And honestly, I do despise this fact. Because working on complex jobs with a hundred people around seems impossible to me.
She, however, knows magic.
“So is this some kind of emotion you’re putting on paper? Is that how you’re feeling?”
“You’re printing emotions! Okay. And you’re tracing black over an already-sketched grey. Is that a whirling dervesh?”
She didn’t reply. She was too busy, again.
“Is black anger?”, I asked.
“No”, she lifted her head. “black is death.”
A beautiful image laid before my eyes when she put her pens down. I looked at it, and then at her, with awe.
“You like it?”, she asked.
“I adore it”, I replied.
She smiled and remained silent. After a while, she requested me to pass those few crayons from the side-table.
“Crayons? What will you do with them?”, I asked when I handed them uncertainly to her.
She smiled again.
In a few seconds time, the entire drawing in front of me was changing colors. It was so sudden, and so dramatic, that I couldn’t even stop her. She picked up red, and then orange, and yellow and then peach. And she crushed them all one after another. The sketched drawing and the flowers and figures, and lines, were all becoming a background. And her work of art was slowly destroying itself in itself.
“What are you doing? Why are you doing this?!” I shouted.
“I like it this way.”
“You’re practically damaging it in front of my very eyes!”
“Oh no. I like it this way”, she repeated.
“Don’t. It looks horrible”
“See, I don’t care.”
“You are selfish. You know that?”
“Whose work is this?”
“Let me do it my way then.”
Finally, it was done. She put her stationary down, lovingly. I picked up the sheet and looked closely.
Orange covered most of it, red only lined somethings, and with peach she had written:
In your thoughts
do I find solace
Let me immerse in you.
The grey lines behind those colors had kind of brightened up more prominently, instead of blurring. And the effect was altogether different. I was surprised to find that it wasn’t ugly at all.
It was stunningly beautiful. I looked at it admiringly, and then turned to look at her but she had disappeared.
Oh, the magic she had!