That time when darkness created home in my heart and I felt the need to bring colors in my life, was the time when I started painting walls again. I started walking on the roads of with the sun rising, finding the colors of joy which I finally received from the colorful graffiti walls. The satisfaction from stealing invented the peace in the process. This gave rise to inner joy , rise to self-confidence. A head start to the deepest thoughts that cling to me.
That day when I went to paint the collection of my thoughts, I met a kid. The violence of my hands created no fear in his eyes. He admired everything with an awe. Pestering me the whole day, creating nuisance, and irritating me in the process. He had no intentions to go away. He stood there silently. Morning and nights created no difference. When the work exhausted me , I looked at him. He still seemed creative. I wonder how he acts so full of energy and yet so determined, when actually he should have left me a lot earlier.
That night when I slept, he painted the wall with innocence. Violence was conquered. I started learning from him. I found out that giving has more power than receiving. He taught me to smile again. I started exploring more. I was more like a student to him now. That day people admired the depictions, artwork of innocence. Beauty in the work was admired more now. I wonder when I put peace in my paintings, I was disappointed by family. When I kept violence, I am disappointed by people. Maybe I lacked somewhere. Or they lacked? Why do some people want to over-power others? Can’t they run on the track that is going to follow their path? Why do they need to disturb others?
He explained the beauty in depictions. The things which I couldn’t learn though far in age. I didn’t want to learn from him.The ego always held up high, “You could learn from yourself”, when I knew I couldn’t. The things which I couldn’t see now, he could. He had positivity inculcated in him. When I went through tough times blindly like a dummy, without knowing the consequences, I struggled a lot. I am still struggling. But the more I see good in people, the more I see myself devoting to my work. When I try to be self-conscious, it turns back on me. I understood, I am not meant to be self-conscious. I just have to be myself.
I can’t change him, and he can’t change me. He is following his track. I’m just glad I didn’t meet any person who would deceive me again. I would have been in the worst condition. People kill the innocence and hurt others to rule, Ego strikes again,“You can do the same”. But it would always hover above my thoughts somewhere, that something I did was wrong. Whatever I did till now was wrong, always backfired at me, and maybe it was for my own good. At the end, everything has a reason for its occurrence.
That night I made a painting, not to get appreciation from people, but to get appreciation from him. He was my inspiration now.
