The World of Myriad Hues
The World of Myriad Hues3 mins 371 3 mins 371
The painting before her eyes depicted the ocean and shore that were illuminated by the rays of the setting sun. Jhanvi focused her gaze on the vivid colours used in the painting, a blast of purple and violet. In contrast to the crimson red sky at sunset, the painting portrayed the sky as if it was stuffed with infinite bunches of lilacs. The purple from the sky crept into the surface of the ocean, reaching further upto the shore and casting a purplish hue on the silhouettes of people. She noticed that in spite of the artist’s bizarre choice of colours, the seascape looked much more alluring than the real sunset.
Jhanvi shifted her gaze to the next painting in the line and stood perplexed for a second. Before her eyes were sand dunes and camels soaked in warm sunlight. But the sand which spanned the entire length and breadth of the desert was turquoise-hued as if the underground springs had erupted to the surface.
The paintings which followed turned out to be even more eccentric in their texture and choice of colours. Jhanvi observed that all the paintings were inspired by real-life and comprised of intense and vibrant colours. But they were also whimsical in many aspects. The artworks showed peacocks in shades of mulberry red, emerald-hued sunflowers and also creatures, which appeared surreal and authentic at the same time.
Her eyes started searching for the artist and they rested upon a man who was standing at the far end of the room. Dressed in denim and a white shirt, the man appeared to be completely engrossed in his work. His hand which held a brush was swiftly moving over the canvas in front of him.
She moved towards him and on hearing the clank of heels on the floor, he looked up from his work. She smiled at him but he seemed to gaze at something behind her. She turned back perplexed, only to be greeted by a desolate gallery.
‘Yes?’, the man asked, moving closer to her. She couldn’t help noticing his dark grey eyes.
‘These paintings belong to you?’, Jhanvi asked reluctantly, pointing at the artworks in the room.
He nodded his head and smiled at her.
‘I was just going through them and... I found your choice of colours quite peculiar’, Jhanvi said with curiosity.
The artist chuckled on hearing her words and dabbed his hands on a tissue. As she stood puzzled by his reaction, he reached out to a walking stick which was placed nearby.
Jhanvi felt her muscles stiffen as the realisation dawned upon her. Sensing her reaction, the man turned towards her and said,
‘Yes, I am a blind artist .’
Then, he motioned her towards the paintings and she followed him silently.
‘It’s true that I could never see the colours that this beautiful world is made of. But the darkness which engulfed me long back gave me the freedom to see the world through the eyes of my imagination.’ he said, as she listened intently.
‘Most of the people are forced to accept the world as it is. But all these colours that you see around are just an illusion created by reflection and absorption of light, not entirely real.’ His words resonated in the deserted gallery.
‘I painted the world with the colours of my choice, entirely free from all those expectations of the world. Whatever you see around is my interpretation of beauty and elegance. ’, he said, pointing at his paintings all around. Her eyes drifted to his paintings and she admired them as never before.
‘Trust me, they are even more beautiful than the real world.’, Jhanvi said, squeezing his hand. She saw the sparkle in those grey eyes and wished that someday he realises how marvellous his eyes are, just like his paintings.