Thursday, 18 August 2011


not have anyone but his paintings with him, hot tea always helped him maintaining his steam to continue painting.

Ferit`s English was not bad. However, it was not too good too. He could manage expressing himself, and could make most out of what others were saying. That much knowledge of English was sufficient for him. He was never expected to learn the Shakespearean English to deal with a couple of English speaking tourists who at times, pop in his studio, trying to find something attractive for themselves.

Kamal, did hear what Ferit said, and saw him turning towards the table where the water was boiling. The set of
the two teapots attracted him. One on top of the other .He saw Ferit pouring the condensed tea from the smaller teapot that was put on top of the bigger one, with the boiling water. The dark reddish black color of the small quantity of the tea, in the transparent glass, that first appeared at the bottom of the small tea glass, soon started becoming reddish as the water from the bigger teapot started pouring in. Kamal enjoyed the scene. The artist in him enjoyed the process of watching the changing tone of the color.

With all this going on there, Kamal`s mind was still boggling with the effects of the first two shocks, that he had received during the last couple of minutes. “Why was he waiting for me?” his mind raised the first question. “Why he said that we would discuss the situation later on?”, was the second question. Both these remarks were pinching him. Kamal was physically present in the studio but his mind was not. His mind needed time, to solve this problem.

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