It’s good to be a supportive spouse most of the times. Just that sometimes your overenthusiastic efforts bounce back, leaving you with no option. Well, something of this sort happened to me recently.
From Salsa to French lessons to MBA and what not, Mr. Hubby has been at his encouraging best. This time I thought of a role reversal. I had often seen him appreciate good art and the hunger to paint and draw in his eyes. Often, I asked him to resume what he left behind in school, but hubbies, you know, have a mind of their own. An year ago, I got him Canvass, paints and other tools to get going. Many art exhibitions added fuel to the fire. We even did some paintings together on our Lansdowne holiday (sorry haven’t mentioned it on my Lansdowne post). All my efforts finally paid off when few days ago, Mr. Hubby walked up to me and said “We are joining painting classes. I have enrolled and the classes begin this weekend!”
Wow! Mission successful! But hey, wait…rewind…what did he say, “WE are joining”…when did I become a part of this?
Me, from the moment I can remember, had been terrible with anything and everything remotely related to art. Drawing was the most dreaded period in school. While all kids were busy fine tuning the anatomy of the human structures, I was still struggling with getting the left eye symmetrical to the right eye on the sheet that often turned black or even tore by frequent use of eraser!
My moment did come once though in the 4th standard, when the teacher was surprised to see my perfect drawing. The drawing is still afresh in my memory – a birthday party, huge table, ballons, birthday cake and excited kids eager to get their piece of cake. Somehow I had even got the eyes symmetrical this time. So when the teacher appreciated, I was elated! The teacher asked me to fill up the colors. I attempted my creative best, and loved every bit of the painting when it was done. Wish there were Camera phones back then. But then, a child is the apple of his mother’s eyes, irrespective of how s/he looks.
The elated feeling came down with a thud when the teacher gave a look and shouted her lungs, “What have you done? The whole painting is spoiled. Since when did tables become purple in colour?” Her shout was loud enough for the whole class to hear and I could feel the heat behind my ears in the silent room. Sheepishly, I took my drawing and went back to my seat, ignoring the giggles on the back bench.
And now, when I look at modern art and houses with red walls and so many odd combinations done at the pretext of creativity, I wonder, if a wall can be blue, why couldn't a table be Purple back then?
That was it. I called it a day and parted ways with drawing; never ever told about that class incident to anyone. My parents tried a lot to revive the interest – taking me to art competitions, getting colors, books etc. But nothing much happened apart from a few participation certificates. I did manage the drawing part very well later in project work and zoology practical files. But as far as drawing and painting was concerned, it was over for me.
So, when Mr. Hubby gave me the shock of my life that day, I just kept gazing at him. No amount of pleading helped. Mr. Hubby of course knows about the school incident and felt the only way to resume what I had left then was to give it one more shot. Oh God, what goes around, comes around! I was cornered.
Like a dutiful wife, I did surrender, well more because he had already paid the money for me without informing me. By now, he has learnt enough emotional drama from me so insisted he would only go if I accompanied him. In short, I was left with no other option!
We did go for the art class. But to know whether I rocked or shocked, you will have to wait, coz it deserves a separate post. Right now, am almost late for work and I obviously can’t tell boss I got late coz I was finishing my blog post!
So, part –II in the evening. Stay tuned!