Monday, 19 August 2013


As I painfully sketched the portrait of the lady torn in pain, dressed but ill-clad, rich in  hunger and poverty, I reminisced your unparalleled passion for painting.
Landscapes basking in the glory of the sun setting half way across the blue skies that gave in willingly to the radiance of the red- a beauty only you could imagined.. The solitary bird of prey taking flight, boldly and fearlessly across the hefty mountains that stood in an exalting pride.. The cattle grazing in the vast expanses of green shiny by sun's rays hitting the unassuming morning dew..
Though you depicted joy and relentless hope for a better future, years back while you wreathed in pain and tore your insides in agony I knew less.
Now that I'm no more ten, now that I'm almost as old as you are when you dreamed of a life with me in it, I understand.
The way you sketched bright landscapes gleaming of hope and joy and taught me lessons that no one else, in no other way could have, I will sketch for you.
For our sake, in them, veiled sorrows and hidden pain will exist no more.
They'll speak only of the universe of beauty you took my world into.

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