In the third year of my college (+3), my closest friend Pradeep Chalan approached me with a request that would unexpectedly etch itself into the canvas of my memory. He said he wanted me to sketch a portrait of his high school sweetheart. Though he had left KISS long ago, and I had only recently joined, fate had brought us together in Jeypore, Koraput. We met while waiting for a train to Bhubaneswar on November 17, 2012. That meeting was the start of a warm friendship that grew over the years. Pradeep and I shared many things mobile phones, laughter, and long chats about college life. I remember he had a keypad phone, while I proudly owned a Samsung Duos touchscreen. He would often borrow my phone to take pictures, especially when his girlfriend was around. He was quiet but expressive through small gestures. One day, during our +3 college days, he came to me with a photograph and a request: "Friend, please sketch this girl for me. But promise me, don’t show this to anyone or even take a photo once you’re done." His seriousness struck me. The girl in the photo was Pratima Singh, a student from the Education Department in our class. She was from Baleswar, while Pradeep was pursuing Psychology. Rumor had it, they both had feelings for each other quiet, respectful love, full of admiration and boundaries. That day, I started sketching her, and Pradeep sat beside me the entire time, watching each stroke with care. It took me hours. The sketch, done entirely in colored pencils, started coming to life. Her serene eyes, the calm expression, and the slight curve of her smile slowly emerged on paper. It was not just a portrait anymore it was the silent story of their love. When I was done, I reached for my mobile to take a picture for memory’s sake, as I always did with my artworks. But Pradeep quickly took the sketch from my hands and said, “Friend, you may have drawn it, but you can’t take a photo. If someone sees it, it may cause trouble.” His words, though firm, came with a hint of vulnerability. I tried explaining how I always kept photos of every sketch I made not for fame, but for memory. But he didn’t relent. I remained silent, masking the deep disappointment inside me. Three years passed. I never saw that sketch again. Pradeep never mentioned it, and I didn’t ask afraid to stir old emotions. Then, in 2019, as I was scrolling through Facebook, my heart skipped a beat. Pratima had uploaded that very sketch as her profile photo. My emotions flooded back pride, sorrow, nostalgia. I took a screenshot immediately. It felt like a long-lost part of me had returned. This sketch wasn't just a piece of art. It was a reflection of three lives crossing paths mine, Pradeep’s, and Pratima’s. It captured a moment in time, frozen with pencil strokes and silent feelings. Even though I had forgotten her name with time, I never forgot the sketch. I eventually contacted an old classmate who helped me recall her name. Everything suddenly felt complete. From this story, we learn that love doesn’t always need grand expressions. Sometimes, a silent gesture like preserving a hand-drawn portrait speaks volumes. Respect in love is powerful Pradeep never wanted to hurt or disrespect Pratima’s privacy, and that’s something I admire deeply, even today. We also learn that artists give a part of their soul to every work they create. And even if it is gifted away, a piece of that creation lives within the artist forever. The pain of not being allowed to keep a copy of my own artwork taught me humility and acceptance. But it also gifted me a story that would stay with me for life.
Finally, this sketch reminds us that memory is not always in photos it lives in feelings, stories, and connections. The artwork may have left my hands, but it never left my heart. It traveled through time, through Facebook, and found its way back to me. Today, I share this story not as an artist, but as a witness to a silent, respectful love that once bloomed in the quiet corners of our college days.
What We Learn from This Sketch
Art is eternal. Even if taken away, it can return in unexpected ways.
Love is not always loud. It can be quiet, respectful, and deeply meaningful.
Friendship has limits too. Sometimes even close friends can unknowingly hurt us.
Privacy matters. Especially when it involves someone else’s image or emotions.
Memories live in stories. And stories need to be told not just for others, but to heal ourselves.
