Thursday, July 29, 2010


Her name was Man-o-ara,
She used to come to my house almost every morning
when i was painting or reading.
she used to sit watching me mixing colours or
selecting brushes or washing the brushes in
the liquid. i could see her head moving with every movement i made while painting . when i stopped
and looked at my painting from distance
she followed me and followed my deep contemplation
When she sat down again , she sat exactly the way she was sitting before.....her small chin resting on her palm and the small body resting on another hand.its always the same style used to remind me of JaminiRoy's painting. Her eyes were always slightly watery but wide, the eyebrows like the bow. She used to cover her face partly with the veil,mostly dark coloured. Sometimes i used to say ' why do you cover your face like that?. She never answered but simply smiled and she knew her smile used to say more than few words.Some day I Insisted her to sit for me for painting and with much reluctance she did sit and i painted a portrait of her.When I finished that painting
she looked at it for a long time with wondering large eyes,then looked at me and then suddenly she hugged me and rested her small head on my chest and whispered "Thank you,I shall keep it with me all my life. can I take it home and show it to my mum ?" Its a kind of request artists always face and they are always in a dilemma. But for man-o-ara it was different.When I said she could she danced and danced around holding the painting in front of her as if she was holding a mirror. Then in a few minutes she left ,through the backdoor of my house ,started to run towards her home across the garden .When she reached her door ,she turned around and looked and waved and smiled ,her veil surprisingly vanished , her lyrical body stood still for a few minute ,stared at me and then the door closed.
For next few weeks i didn't see her and I got worried. I asked everyone and at last my caretaker said " babuji,
Man-o-ara will not come any more. She is getting married.Man-o-ara got married indeed with a businessman and left .


  1. beautiful amiya ji! so beautiful..the story telling, the flow, the story itself..

    that you have captured her in your canvas, you have taken her in you, in your blood that flowed in your veins while you were doing the strokes, in your mind that captured her image, and in your heart that made her beautiful beyond her knowledge.

    that you have given the painting to her i think would have been the most precious gift any lady will receive. and she taking a part of you, even in a life away from you now..

    i am just so endeared by this..just so endeared...

  2. Who else would understand other than a poet and an artist inheart except you. ,Thank you Rina.

  3. rina commented so aptly...what else is there for me to say.she spoke it all. the time the girl spent with you i can say that was the one of the most precious moments of her life..for she discovered herself in the portrait...which she was in search of.

  4. Thank you ...To touch ( chandbodoni) Girls feelings are so appropriate.

  5. the most precious moments for you too..sounds like some satyajit ray's classics..

  6. it's like another simple but emotionally captivating tale of an artist and his MUSE!!!

  7. Thank you autumn leaves and Madhumita
    for your pressence and encouragement.