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!
