Thursday, 18 August 2011

82


air. Jets were flying at different angles, up and down, exhibiting their acrobatic abilities, with bombs exploding down under. Kamal, had taken most part of the day, making this painting, by his pencil, on the wall. He had thought that he had spoiled the wall. His mother too was of the same opinion. So that was the situation, and his father was going to punish him for that.

He had just tried to express the feeling of Kamal, the airforce pilot living within him, through the young artist Kamal, both living inside him at the same time.

“I never knew that my son is such a good artist,” his father said, at a time when Kamal was expecting some very harsh words from him. His father was cool and friendly, as always.

His father did have the knowledge of the artistic abilities of his son. He had seen his school drawing books, where he used to take good marks. But this time, Kamal had made a good painting, on the wall. He was impressed by the talent of his young son. He had taken his son Kamal, the artist, seriously for the first time.

“You have got the fingers of an artist,” his father was still holding his hand. He told him and to his mother about his intentions of taking Kamal to some good artist, to learn painting, beside his school. Listening to this decision of his father, Kamal became too happy. He was going to be an artist, which he always dreamed of.

His eyes gave way to the waiting tears of his. He could not control his emotions. His mother immediately caught hold of him, and clinched him to her loving breast. He started crying. His mother was still trying to console him.
                                         



His father was perturbed. Why his young artist son was crying? His mother too started weeping with his son. Young Kamal, was going to be a big artist.

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