Skip to main content


The Creative Struggle

In the routine mundane life,   At times, l onging for creativity lingers like a forgotten tune A quiet rebellion stirs against the everyday grind, Struggling to break free to find expression, to find voice Yet within this paradox lies a steady pursuit of inspiration And a search to find myself I wish that someday the dormant artist within me rise Revealing the true essence of my being Setting me free from myself And weaving my existence with the threads of imagination 

That New Year Eve

It was the evening of 31st December, a festive mood filled the air. People were all excited about New Year parties and busy getting ready.

But in all the excitement, she felt a bit unsure. She was usually the one who loved parties and being with friends. However, this year was different. She had said no to three party invites already. Everyone wondered why she was acting strange.

In reality, she had something special on her mind. The night ahead was her 'Painting night'. 

Such a whimsical artist she was, one who couldn't be rushed. If someone asked her to paint, she'd take weeks, maybe even months, to finish one.

She often remarked that inspiration came unannounced, and when it did, the world around her would fade away, leaving only her, her palette of colors and the brushes that danced on canvas.

And so, on that very evening, while everyone was partying outside, an extrovert like her had retreated into the cocoon of her apartment, sheltering herself from the merriment's cacophony.

It was a night meant to be alone with her thoughts, as she was listening to the whispers of her imagination.

Yet He was there too. She didn’t ask him to but he stayed up for her. He was working on a new melody, strumming his guitar, jotting notes as they floated around him.

They were talking to each other intermittently; about random things, nothing in particular.

The room was a mess with colour tubes and brushes strewn all over the place. She liked it that way. The usually organised girl preferred a mess while painting.

Her brush was freely flowing across the canvas giving life to the rough and dry pencil sketches.

“How fascinating it is” he said, “That an artist can make any simple object look so beautiful”

She looked at him. His eyes were gleaming with amusement.

As he was strumming his chords, it felt as if his music was filling up the room, shielding both of them from rest of the world. It was their own little island, just two of them, totally engrossed in their own work., still very much together.

Finally when she finished her painting, she got up and opened the window curtains to look outside. Warm sun-rays brightened her room. She could hear birds chirping. 

“Wow, it’s morning already, We totally lost track of time.” she marvelled. 

"The new year has started."

There was a hint of excitement in her voice.


“Show me your painting first.” 

She held it up to the laptop camera.

“Beautiful”!! His face was more expressive than his words.

His remarks made her day. As if she was waiting for his expressions.

“I think we should get some sleep now.”

“Yeah..we should.. happy new year..”

‘Happy new year to you too..”

And they both logged off from their video call.

“This must have been the best new year party ever”- She thought to herself as she shut her laptop screen. 

Once again she looked at her painting.

“It is indeed beautiful..!” 


Post a Comment

Popular Posts