The Painter Guy
He touched her face, gently, trying to read all the lines. All the pain that she had had to go through all these years. He took his time, surveying every nook of her body, slowly gently, trying not to upset any joy… any worry that might be nestled in it. Shoulders, elbows, ankles, thighs, breasts… His hands traverse her expanse and stop at her lips.
He had everything he needed to paint her on his canvas now. He left a small sigh in the tangled mess that was her hair and shoved his canvas into the trash can. He spilled his colors and made her walk in them, caressing the rainbowed footsteps as she made her way into the gloom of his heart.
He made her stop then and slowly, with fine strokes, he began to daub her with darkness. He worked patiently, worked hard.
When he was through… she no longer existed… And all that was left was a shade blacker than black…
Shashank Bajaj says:
sweety u r still on with ur wonderful thoughts its really good to read such imagination after such long time i have visited this blog
July 13th, 2007 at 07:28 pm
anirudh says:
wow…neha is back now…!
July 14th, 2007 at 12:08 pm
burf says:
i have a curious question, is the guy blind?
July 14th, 2007 at 11:40 pm
Neha says:
Haha. Maybe…
July 14th, 2007 at 11:46 pm
Anil says:
Very evocative. The words paint quite a picture.
July 19th, 2007 at 02:49 am
Neha says:
Thanks Anil… this one is a bit close to my heart…
July 19th, 2007 at 11:07 am
Alpha0 says:
Awesome.
I think I love you.
August 6th, 2007 at 05:07 pm
Neha says:
Haha… Thanks Alpha0, I think I love you too!
August 8th, 2007 at 10:55 am
Satyajit says:
Neha, it’s a wonderful chain of imagination! It so inspirational that I feel like, searching deep inside the coal mines for years. I am sure that I’ll definitely find such artistic black beauty transformed into diamond.
August 28th, 2007 at 03:56 pm