And he left early that day

A year of research, over four months of preparations, uncountable hours of sweat and he was ready for the presentation, but he left early that day.

On a premature evening when flames from the sky were yet to extinguish he ignited the spark of engine and drove off from the premises. His passion was diluted in the mist of corporate anarchy; it took him a decade and innumerable achievements to understand how meaningless his world is.

That’s a wonderful picture! Who is the painter?

 

Someone was enthralled to see his first piece of work when he was in college, but a shy fellow was not bold enough to step forward and accept the accolades. He stood in a corner while the admirers wondered around his work.  His passion filled him with happiness but the associated triumph never reached him.

This practically changed the way he perceived victory thereafter. He went after the goals which were never his and climbed one peak after the other, the shy him fell from one of those.

He took a left turn towards the isolated lake where the sun was settling, something resembling to what he painted a decade ago. As he stepped out of the car his mobile vibrated for the n^th time. He took it out and tossed into the stationary stream.  At least it won’t bother him again. He sat down at the shore and felt a strange sensation in the silence, it was nothing like the hustles and bustle in and around the cubicles of his office. Instead it was just the reverberations of the water hitting the sands, the quite whispers of the birds and the winds carrying innumerable messages.

He took a pebble and pitched it on the surface of the water which made innumerable expanding boundaries. Once he was in a cubicle then shifted to a cabin and now he held a chamber of his own. Each strike increased his boundaries but confined his reach. He drowned in the life as the pebble in the lake.

He attained more accolades than what could have ever earned from his paintings but nothing made him a fraction happier. His company gave him enough toys to pride himself but they confined him too, he has already got rid of one and remembered a few which were still lying in his car.

The settling sun made him aware of possibilities which were closing its gates. He stood up and typed his final paper addressed to his ministers; they won’t administer his life and passion hereafter.

He drove off from there only to return the next day with a canvas, a brush and paints of his fascination.

A lifelong of forgotten inspirations came alive in some hours of sweat and honesty. He took a few steps back and observed his work glowing in the settling light of the sun and it brought a smile on his face. 

This practically changed the way he perceived happiness thereafter.