Today someone told me “ Now, I am not a trustworthy person anymore”. I accept that but with a little twist. No one on this planet is completely trustworthy. We play several roles in our life. Family roles, professional roles, social roles are few to mention. We are entangled in these inter related roles. If we try to play one role the integrity of other role might be constantly challenged. This challenges the perception and belief of others towards us. The ideologies will clash. And that clashing makes all the difference. Things are not right or wrong. They are just ‘differently right or wrong’ for different people. And in this, the sanctity of relations would be challenged by us constantly.
If someone breaks your trust. Or if you breaks someone’s trust. Then there are two things that should be reflected upon. The person itself or that incident. Which is of more importance to us, deciding that is crucial. If the person is more important then the incident should become oblivion. And if the incident and its ripple effects are important, then the person should exit your mind.
From my cupboard, found few tube paints, water colors and some unused paint brushes.
I recalled that as a child, I used to spend my summer vacations painting. Sometimes sitting in the store room, away from everyone, painting for hours. Sometimes sitting on the dinning table. Sometimes early morning painting of a tree or even of a joker. I used to buy extra paint colors and coloring books. Filling every page of the coloring book and then thinking why it finished so fast.
Tonight, I sat with those paints, a sketch book and old set of oil pastels. Switched on the old radio set. Which I gifted to my mother. Tune in to All India Radio. Started listening to old melodies. The RJ was talking about Shashi Kapoor’s life.
With my door opened to the balcony, I was feeling the cool air. I started to paint. A tree. Took reference from a website. I was admiring how few colors got mixed so well while others didn’t get along.
In the end, I sprinkled red and yellow color on my painting. My fingers were looking beautiful with paints on them. The sprinkled yellow and red paint left their impressions on my side table and on the hard disk kept on it. The chair too,was not spared by touch of those paints.
I found a rusted piece of my childhood life breathing inside me. I re-lived few memories.
I don’t know what it does to others. But now I know what it did to me.
First of all, tears starts pouring down when you are alone. You don’t want to face the world. Because that person was a memorable and happy part of your world. And now, the phase of life has changed that person. Very often, you might have to meet that person in the journey of life. And now you don’t want to face that face. You want to keep those good memories treasured. Which are now being stolen by circumstances.
You start feeling that your eyes are becoming sunken. Your appetite loses its grip on your stomach. Your voice also starts fighting with the world. With all the happiness in the journey, warm tears starts falling on your cheeks. They makes you realize that they are also there. And will be competing with happiness, endlessly.
With all the drama. You stop hoping about anything that will stop those tears. But still, with passing hours, days or may be months. You starts realizing things. In life, you will be hurt by people. And some days, you will also hurt them. All that is there to be learnt is that even if someone hurts you. Just smile. Cry for a little while. But smile. It will make things easier.
Just remember, if that person has hurted you then that person also gave many good things to remember and learn in life. Smile for those memories. And life will smile at both of you.
My batch mates and I were shooting a small scene for a short film. The scene was set on a cigarette shop. One is playing the role of a spot boy. Holding the camera bag and the water bottle. Smiling widely while watching the shoot. The two others were acting. The writer is the cinematographer. I was assigned for audio recording. Everyone was an active part of the drama going around.
Apart from us, there was one person who was equally participative. The shopkeeper.Sitting on his stool, inside the shop. Wearing shades. A red tikka on his forehead. And top buttons of his shirt were open in style. He himself was looking like some famous bollywood character.
As the camera used to starts rolling, he used to become camera conscious. Smiling. Acting and playing the silent role in the best possible manner he could. Even if nobody asked him to do that. As soon as the camera used to roll off, he used to ease his posture. And attentively listened to our discussions.
We stayed there for quite a time. He added a different flavor to the whole experience. In the end, his expressions too were adding elements to our story. Although nobody noticed that.