Posted in Humor, Life, Philosophy, Uncategorized

Artist on the street.

This incident was a while back. Back, when the nation was still ruled by the Gandhi family, Sachin was still playing cricket, not many people knew who Mr. Arvind Kejriwal was and when I still had some cash in my pocket.

As I mentioned, I had cash in my pocket.

No I was not planing on visiting any temple, nor a lady of negotiable affection.

I was planing on buying some shoes. So I roamed the usual streets of Pune, browsing  the merchandise,  when I came across a boot-polisher.

He did not have any customers, so he was scribbling on a piece of paper. I mean, he was using a Red coloured pen and a Blue coloured pen to draw an abstract picture.

Needless to say, I took a picture. ( If I hadn’t then it would have been a huge penalty for entire mankind. or at-least the one which clicks pics of random crows,sparrows, funny looking tiles, shapes made using multiple hands and feet, and posts them to Facebook.)

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Now, while clicking this , I was looking at his face, and then I noticed, there were some tears in his eyes. Maybe, his art was being noticed . It was being appreciated. It was being clicked by someone he did not know, without him telling the person to do so.

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Being a bad photographer, I was not able to capture the tears in his eyes, but trust me, they were tears of joy.

It was not Picasso, Monet, Van Gogh or Ravi Verma. But he sure felt like one. Because as is the way of human nature, when some one is clicking something, people around get curious and look at what is actually being clicked. In no time, there were around 15 people admiring the sketch.

The expression of the new born artist was priceless.

If anyone really wishes to see this person, please visit J.M. road in Pune. He may still be there, with his red pen, blue pen and a  piece of paper, scribbling away…

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Author:

An IT professional, a Slytherin and a brooding narcissist, who lives behind his keyboard.

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