The Artist

There he was, seated on the side-walk bunt,

sketching off cards with a pen,

while thousands walked by.

The side-walk bunt with its groomed flowers,

made an impressive background for the tall, lean figure

seated at ease, with one leg crossed over the other.

Drawn by this unusual charisma,

I approached him and found some beautiful canvas

neatly laid out for sale.

Wish I had the money to buy them all!

Each one distinctively individual,

yet bearing the same tone of line, woman, flower and window…

Being so thoughtful, he had secured each piece

on bristle-board, for the buyer’s convenience.

I bought one masterpiece-

three araliya flowers, amidst a bunch of leaves,

a dark woman in veil and two pictures within the picture,

all magnificently captured to bring out an araliya bride;

my mind’s imagination…

How ironical-

to sit in front of the mega departmental store,

in an almost frozen still,

making a complete contrast to the crowd bustling in and out of its doors.

Many an eye noticed him, but many ignored or were too busy to bother.

Inclined to art myself, my curiosity could hold no more,

and I had to but ask why he would not sell his work to some handicraft store.

Sitting in the midday sun,

like a weather-proof wall,

bearing the temper tantrums of the sun,

he certainly deserved more.

Upon falling into chat, he rose to his feet,

and my heart grieved even more,

to see the remarkable resemblance in figure and tone,

to one professor I knew long before…

Thousands of questions, thousands of answers,

and thousand things other makes me ponder,

while gazing at the picture now hanging on my bedroom wall.