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Talking to Vinci's Monalisa

Talking to Vinci's Monalisa

4 mins
360


These loosely folded hands are trying to embrace the world with pain subtly substituted by the smile on my lips and they are whispering in my thoughts, ‘Monalisa, you won’t be heard ever, so simply smile.’ Monalisa, I think you are trying to converse with me. You are still smiling. Am I looking funny? That’s why I consider women as mysterious. They are quite good in suppressing their desires and draw a rosy picture of themselves in front of the world. They painted the world but their names never appear in the portraits drawn by them. But, Vinci named you. Does that sound strange to you, Monalisa? A man is giving you the credit you deserved. You still look confident while adjusting in the social frame where your contributions are not even considered by your own family. Your story is similar to many women who are muffled in the system where they have to adhere to classy norms and keep a smile even if their husbands tortured them. Your aspirations are reflected by your eyes but did you fulfil them? Did Vinci ignore your pain or you stopped him from drawing your grievance? Let your confident yet reluctant harness the truth which we are trying to find while looking at your portrait. Oh Look! You are smiling again. These questions are crucial. You cannot ignore them while smiling in such a subtle way. Do you understand? Nudge me not! Times are gone. Let bygones be bygones. No one knows about the woman in the portrait. Even Vinci did not know her. She died after the painting completed. That’s what the world knows about Monalisa. But, they call you a masterpiece. Isn’t it your identity? You see, I am just a piece… a fragment but a woman can’t be drawn. Her truth remains hidden behind her smile like I always do. Well, Monalisa is simply seen as Vinci’s creation but I created Vinci… that seems invisible. Isn’t that true? An artist’s imagination is often not considered as an individual. It is considered as the preliminary phase of consciousness. How could the artist separate his/her imagination from his/her being? Well, an artist never thanks his/her creation which he/she must do even if it is not recognized. Well, you are a live object whom Vinci is drawn. You inspired him but, did he thank you? Monalisa, you are drawing me towards important questions. I am thankful to you. You are one of the fragments which got disintegrated while Vinci was drawing me. My emotions were set aside and the real me got stuck in the hollowness of reality which Vinci did not consider. Every woman lies fragmented in this modern world. A woman loses her integrity while her voice remains marginalized. You are an excellent example of how an incomplete woman feels like. A woman would keep that incomplete smile on her face to reflect over her unfilled desires and we would still consider their lives as complete without considering what lacks in Vinci’s Monalisa. I hate to be known as Vinci’s Monalisa. It should have rather been Monalisa’s Vinci. Monalisa was acknowledged from Vinci’s point of view but my point of views won’t be considered because I am considered as a fragment of his imagination. Don’t worry Monalisa! I won’t repeat the same mistake. I would acknowledge Monalisa not just as a creation but a woman’s reflection and subjugated image in the society. I would not objectify you. I would treat you as an alive person who is talking to me and helping me to decipher what her half-baked smile is actually revealing. Thank you Monalisa for rewriting the history of woman with me. Woman’s history was never written. You are privileged to write it. Thank you for being considerate. I hope I have helped you to understand what lies behind my smile. I am not just a creation but I am an imitation of a normal woman who sacrifices her emotions and accepts denial as punishment for her social acceptance. I feel guilty now. I should have articulated and bashed Vinci for not drawing me incompletely. I hope I have completed the half-drawn portrait of yours by interpreting your life from a woman’s perspective. Truth is partial. The act of knowing is partial. You focused on being a feminist and I focused on embracing my femininity. Our purposes are served. Now, we seem integrated.    


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