by Celin Jay
Back to page 1 of the story
She sat on a piece of log drinking in the golden landscape, studying the deserted playground beyond, bathed in a soft glow and the way the sunlight found its way around trunks and leaves of trees, blurring outlines. She spotted the lanky frame of her brother turn round a corner, covered in dirt and sweat, holding an equally filthy ball in his hands, exhausted but exuding happiness and heading home whistling an off key tune. He paused every now and then to kick a pebble off the narrow road framed by tall sweeping trees, unaware of his long never-ending shadow following him, pausing and flitting through the long shadows of the still trees. The mood and scene etched itself in her mind and it was at that moment Roshi knew for certain, what her final picture would look like and that, she would not need any colours for that.
She went back home in time to see off Aunt Ira. Afterwards she retired to her corner, removed the unfinished canvas and put up a fresh one in its place. Her eyes fell on a gift wrapped box placed casually amidst her usual clutter. She picked it up, having a fair idea of what it was. She walked over to her cupboard and placed the box carefully with her other stuff for another time when she would actually need it. Better still the unopened box would serve to remind her constantly to give her best, whatever the limitations.
Just then she heard her mother calling out to her from below, ‘Roshi,did you get the crayons Aunt Ira got for you? She said she had forgotten to give them to you and remembered it only when she found the box still with her while repacking her case.’
Roshi went down quietly to meet her mother clutching the empty tube of lipstick in her hand. ****