Smirk # 13 - 02 November 2013

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Happy Diwali!!!

May the divine light of Diwali

spread into your Life peace, prosperity,

happiness and good health.

FACE OF THE DEVIL

FACE OF THE DEVIL

Chapter 1 - A Portrait

The eyes stared back at him; mischievous, taunting, measuring him up.

He had the disturbing feeling at the back of his mind that he had seen these eyes somewhere, like a forgotten dream.

The face that adorned the poster size canvas, was that of a young man. His defined jaw bones and chiseled nose gave him the haughty aura. The back-brushed hair and the flippant smile gave him the confidence of a man on top of his game. But it was the eyes, those wicked coal black eyes - that made the back of your neck prick- they gave him the sheen of a man who is not to be meddled with.

A dangerous face.

A haunting face.

Samar had no doubts about the name of the portrait. He lifted the thin tipped brush from the easel, and wrote across the bottom border, in bold artistic curves -

"Face of the Devil."

He took a final look at the portrait before leaving his studio. The room was all done in white; white marble floor, white plaster-of-paris walls and a white ceiling. This used to be the prayer room for the owners of the house, before him.

The room of Gods and prayers now housed the face of the devil!

He chuckled at the irony, as he stepped out of the room.

His eyes hurt. So did his back. He had been working on this portrait relentlessly for 3 days; as if he was on a schedule. But he was not. It was as if he was possessed by some insane drive to get through with this portrait.

He tried to shake the haze off his tired eyes as he lumbered into the bathroom beside the bedroom. He needed a shower. It was not until then, that he remembered that the shower wasn't working. He needed to call a plumber to get it fixed.

Tomorrow, he promised himself, as he bellowed.

"Nandu... "

The sound violated the hollow silence of the house.

It was a big house. Albeit single-storeyed, but it had comfortably housed a 5 person family before he came into possession. It was too big for just him and his servant Nandu. But he liked it big. Extravaganza had never killed anybody.

He heard Nandu's reply, as he turned his eyes to the mirror over the wash-basin in the bathroom. An unkempt face looked back at him. He had let his beard and hair grow for over a year now. They say hair-beard combination is a mark of the superior intelligence; like Tagore and Marx. He needed that intellectual look for the profession he was in.

A painter.

But beyond the facade of the awry entangled mesh, was the face of a guy just over 34 years old. He was good looking. Though the beard added the years to his appearance, it couldn't take the charm away from his smile, nor the twinkle off his eyes. He thought he looked like modified version of Santa Claus; a skinnier, younger and darker version. A more handsome version.

He often wondered how his life would have been had he married. The fairer sex had showered him with their attention, appreciation and affection, both verbally and otherwise. He had the chance to just let himself fall for a perfectly lovely girl, who adored him and his work.

But she could never come into his life. It was his world and he didn't want to share any of it with anyone else. Besides, he didn't need the presence of another person in his life. It would just be a burden. Some birds are just meant to soar the sky on his wings. He was one of them.

He could still hear how Mr. Sen would say, "You are meant for big things, Samar. BIG things".

"Yes Babu.."

Nandu's call brought him out of his reverie.

"Get me some hot water in a bucket. And remind me to call the plumber tomorrow. What's his name again?"

"The plumber? From the hardware store down the street? Bapi?"

"Yes yes.. that Bapi guy..", Samar replied, "I have to call him tomorrow.. Shower is not working.. And what is for dinner?"

"I cooked some potato fry, and I have some fish fries and daal from yesterday.. I'll heat them for you.."

"OK.. now get me the hot water and my towel.. And keep my food in my room.."

The thought of Mr. Sen had brought back a rush of memories. Moments of happiness, of the feeling of being a part of a family.

A family he did not belong to. A family that would only have meant his confinement within the emotional limits.

He remembered the first day he had come into this house, into this family, as a paying guest.

Mrs. Sen always kept him at yard's distance, but Mr. Sen liked him. He liked Samar's dedication towards art, the focus towards being someone successful in life. He knew that Samar came from humble roots; born to family of limited means, which was pushed further towards peril after his father's demise when he was just 7. His mother kept them going with the little she made selling handiwork and homemade pickles. Samar learnt how money changed people's perspectives, at a very tender age. He tried to attend school while having to work at small tea-stalls and bakery shops for a handful of change, to support his mother.

He was brilliant as a student. So school wasn't a big deal, apart from the fact that he had to pay for it. But after he cracked the government scholarship exam in the 6th standard, it became a little easier to pay for it.

But he had found his true calling in life in class 5th, when he watched the painting teacher draw a landscape with a chalk on a board. He could almost feel as if he was a part of that sketch. He could hear the water ripple, feel the breeze disturb the leaves on the tree, see the colour of the clay change darker as it curved away from the sun on the hut in the corner. He felt like he was living it.

His mother passed away during his intermediate exams. She had a bad chest pain for a year. He couldn't afford the surgery that the doctors advised. His relatives turned their backs on him. What if another poor soul dies? It's better for the per head distribution of national wealth!

He moved to city from his village in search of a small job to support his college education. Hostels were too expensive. He started looking for shared rooms, when he met Mr. Sen, who had one room to rent. The rent was a little steep, but Mr. Sen agreed to collecting it from him after he got a job. He somehow took pity on this talented kid, whose dreams were getting grinded under the weight of the consumerist society.

Mr. Sen's two sons, Protyoy and Pronoy took to him immediately. They looked up to Samar like an elder brother. Mr. Sen came to the agreement later that Samar could teach his kids Physics, Chemistry and Maths, and he would deduct the amount he would have paid a tutor for those three subjects, from his rent.

The nostalgic spell was broken when Nandu left the bucket with a thud outside the door.

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The incessant knocking at the front door woke him up.

He looked at the timepiece on the table beside his bed. 3 o'clock in the night.

He thought of shouting for Nandu, but Nandu slept in the kitchen, and it would be impossible to wake him up.

He gathered the shirt from the chair and draped it on as he walked to the door.

"Who is it?" He shouted from behind the closed door.

"Police"

"At this time of the night?"

"Is this Samar Roy's house?"

He opened the door a crack, and put his face out. "Yes"

"We have some questions regarding Rajat Sen and his family."

Samar's heart almost stopped beating.

Memories of a night, 10 years old, came rushing to his mind. Memories of a night that he didn't want to remember.

Smirk # 12 - 02 October 2013

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Chime

The drunkard stopped in his journey long,

To hear a chalice sing it's tinkle song.

And when ended the song benign;

He filled it up with ageless wine.

Smirk # 11 - 14 September 2013

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Altius

Nigh the storm broods, sullen dark.

Thunders roar awake the night.

Beyond the gale, you'll find your mark.

Stars await, beyond the fight.

Soliloquy - A ringtone

This is a downloadable tune, which can be used as a ringtone.

This is called soliloquy.

This is a gift from us to you, as a mark of appreciation of your encouragement in our endevor.

Download, use and enjoy!

And, don't forget; spread the word :)

Soliloquy
https://www.opendrive.com/files?Ml8yNzYxMjkwNl9vdHRaMA

This file is can be downloaded for free. 

HOORRAYYY...HAPPY BDAY LORD GANESHA!!!

ON BEHALF OF ARTIST'S PATIO TEAM

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Smirk # 10 - 7 September 2013

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HOORRAYYY...HAPPY BDAY SHALINI!!!

Face of the devil - Poster

“We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.” - Oscar Wilde

FACE OF THE DEVIL

coming soon, on Tell Tale

Haven

I crossed the lands of nameless face,

Born anchored to the sunken den.

Mom, in your eyes, I found solace.

In your arms, I found haven...

Smirk # 9 - 10 August 2013

 

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Eid Mubarak

It's the time of the crescent moon, sweets and smiles all around.

Eid Mubarak!

May peace and prosperity bless you and your loved ones :)

Elixir

The cloud flies high, to heaven's shrine,

Talks to Sun and the distant stars,

And once he's learnt the art divine,

Rains down life on earthy scars..

Snaajh

Pari's first composition, many years back, during college days. This song, titled "Snaajh" (meaning dusk in bengali) is an ode to a lost love.

This is a single guitar version of that very song.

Enjoy!

HOORRAYYY...HAPPY BDAY ADI!!!

ON BEHALF OF ARTIST'S PATIO TEAM

With you, even the bad times are good! And the best times are better. Happy birthday ADI !

Vix's top 10

Artist's Patio proudly showcases one of his favourite photographer's (and closest friend's) perspective of the world around him.

Vix, thank you for sharing these with us!

HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY TO ALL!!

Smirk # 8 - 3 August 2013

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Te Amo

You are sun in the wintry night,

You are peace, in the eye of storm,

Deaf ear's music, blind eye's sight,

You are love, in human form..

Bojhe na she bojhe na - Title track.

This is on special request from one of our friends.

Mehnaz - This song is dedicated to you, from Artist's patio. :)

Bojhe na she bojhe na - Title track.

Enjoy!

Smirk # 7 - 28 July 2013

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Lifestreet

Just walking down the road of life

While sun holds its scorn, and sky its rains heave,

Look neither back nor cry over strife,

For alone we came, and alone we'd leave...

An all-round unique attempt!

A novel attempt

Pari and Bitan, jamming on a Rabindrasangeet (Tagore Song), fusing guitar and Esraj together.

Smirk # 6 - 24 July 2013

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Tuhin's Clicks

The following 3 photographs were contributed towards Artist Patio's gallery, by a very talented photographer and one of our close friends; Tuhin.

Tuhin, thanks for sharing your perspective with us.

Saajnaa - Jit's Cover

Jit's attempt at a very fresh tune, from the heart of bengali film industry - Saajnaa.

Enjoy!

Smirk # 5 - 21 July 2013

HOORRAYYY...HAPPY BDAY ANKUR!!!

On behalf of Amartya Datta and Artist's patio team...

'May you only experience joy and the best life has to offer on 

your birthday! Happy birthday Ankur Da!'

Click #2 - Rain Dance

The raindrops on the rooftop dance,

Like crystals in their haughty stance...

Smirk # 4 - 18 July 2013

Click #1 - Night's Light

And when night her wings does flutter

Fire breaks out in the heart of water

A rendition

Pari and his sister Sithi, take a dab at a celebrated love song - Teri Yaadein

Our banquet hall

There's not much that we ask for!

Allow us to be a part in your happiness, to do the little we can to make your special day even more colourful.

Have a happy news to share?

A birthday to celebrate?

A special message for someone?

Make us a part in your celebration, and let us have the pleasure of decorating your party with artistpatio flavoured greeting cards and banners.

Send us your occasion description at artistpatio@gmail.com, add a personal message if you want to, and let us do the rest.

For we all are but one big family!

Perspective

We look at world differently, and it's often said that one cannot understand another's perspective.

Is that right?!

In this page we will share with you our perspective, the world through the lens of our camera.

Come, look through our eyes, and perceive the world like we do.

Send us your photographic works at artistpatio@gmail.com.

Who says perspective cannot be shared? :)

Smirk # 3 - 15 July 2013

Longing...

The feet treads along the forlorn earth, The sweaty wing misses not a beat

The prostrate road lay bare her hearth, To the lonely Sun and his dusty heat

'Longing...'

...a try with water color and black marker. Have been doing it for a week...today got finished. Hope u all like it....

ReUnion

REUNION

Chapter 1

“I’d go for TRUTH.”

“OK…Here’s the deal….Tell us something you’ve never told to anyone, not even to your wife….Something which no one knows about….And it shouldn’t be like WHEN-I-LAST-PEED-IN-MY-PANTS kind of a thing….”

Chuckles everywhere.

“Hey hey hey…Its no less than a dare!! Telling something like that..”

“It’s a truth alright…Is it not, everyone??”

Nods everywhere.

The participant stole a glance at someone seated not very far.

Perhaps its time. The day and place is also perfectly suited. The secret should die where it was born . And today, here at room B207, everything comes to a full circle.

He didn’t exactly expect a reply to this anonymous call of friendship. Yet there lay before him an answer. Was it someone prank-ing? But he didn’t know anybody from any other department who can play such a prank on him.

Actually, in his college, there was no dedicated classroom for any department. The rooms kept shifting. Graph theory B005, Strength of materials B102, Maths A012, so on and so forth. The classrooms served almost all the batches. So his seat in B207 was used by some other student from some other department, might be some other year, You could never know. The only thing is that, when he had scribbled “Hi this is ME. Want to be my friend?”, someone had actually written back “Hi YOU, its ME. What are you called by others?”. Someone who might be sharing this seat with him. Not from his department, someone completely unknown.

Romantic and utterly mysterious. Just the way he liked it.

Chapter 2

“Truth and Dare?” asked Rajesh, eyebrows raised and mouth agape, as if he had never heard anything as outrageous as that. “By this November I am turning 33 and you 35, and yet you want…” Sporting a shining bald spot of the diameter of a cricket ball (his job at a leading IT firm could account for that) and a protruding paunch belly on what seemed to be like an athletic body some years back (regular dosage of beer could account for that), Rajesh looked more than 33, somewhere in the vicinity of 40.

“Why stopping at that dear? Only 35? “, interjected Sameera, “Just a two year gap? I’m of your mom’s age probably by  now, ain’t I actually?”

Sameera is Rajesh’s wife. And she for sure didn’t look 35. Her skin was still as smooth as on the first day at college, eyes still as bright. She could almost feel some men around her catching their breath when she walked. The glamour of the “Madhuri Dixit” of the college at her times was still very much in place.

“See see see my lady. I never exaggerate. And its not what I tell. All this 17 years I have heard it numerous times that I look younger than you. And given that peculiar habit you women have got of playing with your age…”

“You would always be a child for your mom and dad. I just don’t understand their mentality though. Probably would have hand-fed you all through had I not come into the household and..”

But Rajesh wasn’t listening. His attention had shifted towards the door.

A lean dark moustached be-spectacled man had entered the room, and having spotted Rajesh, was walking towards him. Sameera vaguely knew his name to be Krishna, Rajesh’s friend during college times. She and Krishna hardly spoke. Rajesh had never showed any special interest in their friendship. So they remained like branches of the same tree. Connected, but distant.

“This man kind’a used to get on my nerves those days”, whispered Ratna, into Sameera’s ears.

“Ditto”, whispered back Sameera, as she watched Krishna slump towards Rajesh.

“I am not very popular. You wouldn't know me by my name.”

“I am just curious, nothing else. What’s your name?”

“Saarthi. You?”

“Puja.”

Impossible. It had to be a prank. No girl would reply back to such things. This must be one of his friends trying to pull his leg. The only problem was that, he didn’t have many friends. Actually, only one. But he wouldn’t do such silly things. He was too busy in his world.

But this just couldn’t be a girl.

“Is that you true name?”

“No.”

Another shock. A prank-star would play along. This made no sense.

“Then what is it?”

“Does that matter? I want this anonymity. Like the way I’m talking to one of those magic diaries, with an inbuilt system to reply back. No personal contact, no expectations, no feeling of hurt. I’m a figment of your imagination, just the way you are to me. Treat me like that. For you, and you alone, I am Puja.”

Little did he know then that this name will haunt him for the rest of his life.

Ratna whispered something in Sameera’s ears, and they both got up.

“You people carry on, we will join you shortly..”, said Sameera.

Rajesh looked at Sameera, and mouthed some words, inaudibly. Sameera made a false show 

of remorse. Rajesh winked back.

“You two look good together.” Ratna said, once they were out of the room. Sameera just smiled. She knew they did. They had to. They were made for each other. She had known it since the first time she had seen him during college days. And after all these years, on the eve of this reunion, when all the broken bits of memory came back and wove a web  of nostalgia, she could feel how correct she has been right from the start.

“You know, that Krishna guy, and his wife are getting separated?”

Even after all these years, Ratna hadn’t changed a bit. Gossips were her life.

“Is that so?” said Sameera, more out of politeness, than anything else, not wishing to carry this topic any further.

“Peculiar guy he is, you know. My brother’s sister in law’s husband, is a colleague of Krishna. He told my husband. After marriage, his wife found out that he is not really interested in her, and that made her feel insecure. Then she found out elaborate love letters hidden in his bags and stuff. No names. But very intense. They argued, and Krishna denied everything. She started thinking he’s having some extra-marital affair.”

“That’s very common these days. People marry, fall for someone else and marry again, then fall for someone again and marry again. Sick, really, but some people do have a sick mentality. Nothing can be done about that…”

“You know, they had a love marriage. You remember that girl, who was in our batch, but later shifted to Mechanical? Her name was Aarthi. South Indian. Dark tall silent. You remember now? Krishna married her. I really feel sorry for her yaar…”

Sameera remembered Aarthi. Actually she had never forgotten her. Still the mention of her name triggered a flood of memories. Memories of a time 15-16 years back, when they were in first year, when she was just starting to get popular. Disturbingly popular .

“Just pray Krishna doesn’t get a TRUTH in the game.....”, Ratna said.

“And what do you think, he’ll spill the truth out about his failed marriage and extra-marital affair right in front of everyone, just for the sake of a kiddish non-sense?”, Sameera replied, smirking.

“No, he won’t…but we can have him wrong footed even if for just an instant…”

Sameera just shrugged, and opened the door for the washroom. She never quite liked Ratna the way she liked her, mostly because of this nosy habit of hers.

“What? Saarthi? From when has your name been Saarthi?” amazement was written all over his face.

Saarthi said nothing. He had just started to feel that he had made a huge mistake by spilling the beans. He could just have feigned that all those scribblings didn’t relate to him.

“And come on yaar…Love her? You aren’t even sure whether she is a girl actually. Never met her, never spoke to her. Just such scribblings on the desk. Don’t you think its fool-hardy?”

Saarthi couldn’t help that. He was bound and gagged. Only thing he knew was that he was desperately, irrefutably, unconditionally, intensely, and irrevocably in love with Puja. Worse still, even after this 4 months of communication, he had no clue as to who was hiding behind the garb of that identity. Perhaps he didn’t want to know. He wouldn’t be able to handle if it was some boy picking him apart, thinking it all was a joke.

Actually, he hadn’t meant it to be like that. He wanted Puja just the way she had wanted him, a diary to spill all your emotions out, and yet feel safe, as it would never know his identity. He had told her things he had not told anybody else. They had developed a code language, by simply replacing each alphabet in a word by the next alphabet. When SECRET became TFDSFU, CRUSH became DSVTI, none knew what deep secrets were shared right before them.

All was going well. Puja told him things about herself, which perhaps she wouldn’t even share with another girl, same was the case with him. They didn’t realize that with those deep, guarded secrets of their personal lives, they were giving away to each other parts of their souls. What started as friendship, fuelled by the romanticism of mystery, ended as a blind need. They had unwillingly become an inseparable part of each others lives. 

Chapter 3

Aarthi was sitting with her batchmates from Mechanical 96 batch. Sameera walked right to her. She had come with Krishna, but then Sameera was not able to recognize her. She looked very different. She looked plump, but somehow emaciated. The eyes were dull-bored-sad.

She had recognized Sameera instantly. They chatted for sometime, the usual woman-to-woman talk. She pointed out her husband, across the room. Krishna, sitting not far from Rajesh, was engrossed in the Truth and Dare game. Smiling, but silent all the same.

Aarthi didn’t bring up that issue. She couldn’t have forgotten, Sameera was ready to bet on that. Yet she remained mercifully silent about the incident.

She came back and sat at the space she had vacated. Game was on full swing.

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“Stop writing back….Listen to me, only you are suffering beacuse of this….This is absurd yaar…..Just suppose if it finally comes out to be a boy? What then?”

“What if it’s a girl for real?”

“Come on….No girl writes back to strangers like this….And even if it’s a girl, where’s the surety that she feels the way you do?....”

Saarthi had no answer.

“Let it be what it is, the best of dreams…End it at this, and there will be no heart-break…If you carry it forward there might be some nasty surprises waiting for you…Then you will forget how good it felt, will only remember that you were made a fool of….don’t let that happen….relish what you have already got, than craving for what might not be….forgotten the story of the duck laying golden eggs, have you?”

Little did he know how difficult it was to let go……Yet, somewhere in the deepest unreachable niche of his heart Saarthi knew whatever he said is true, very true…..

He knew he had to do it,…He had to stop writing to Puja.

What he did not know then, was that, without any notice, Puja would also stop writing to him anymore.

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“OK, Here’s the truth….”, he said softly. “I cheated on a friend, took advantage of his innocence, all for getting the love of a girl whom I loved dearly, and who, I thought then, would fall for him if I did not intervene in time.”

Silence. It was pretty late in the night and many had already left. The rest were mainly his friends. Some were not, but it didn’t matter. They would soon know. Such things spread like flue.

“Yes, what I did was wrong. But I was in love, and I was blinded. I know I can’t expect forgiveness, but forgive me out of your own goodness, Krishna”, Rajesh said in a low voice.

Krishna sat stone-still, eyes on Rajesh, face giving away nothing.

“During our initial days in college, Krishna started friendship with a girl who called herself Puja. He never met her, never spoke to her, didn’t even know for sure whether it was a girl for sure or not. They used to talk to each other only through scribbling on the bench, here, in this room. He called himself Saarthi. They talked of I don’t know what. All I know is that Krishna eventually fell for this mystery girl.

Till that I had taken it as a joke. But when I saw that he’s kind of dragging himself to a pitfall, I thought of finding out the prank-star who was doing this. Made some queries and found out that then Electrical first year (our department) and Chemical first year only used this classroom.

One day during break, I came into this classroom, when Chemical first year batch was here, under the pretext of finding a book I forgot here. There, at Krishna’s seat, sat the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, or will ever see. I was stunned that a girl like her was carrying out such an anonymous relationship with Krishna. And that day, I felt jealous, very jealous of Krishna.

I got her name from a guy I knew, from her department, and walked straight upto her, and asked “Do you write these notes on this bench?”

She looked up and stared right into my eyes. And at that very instant I knew that she is the one for me, that I’d be incomplete without her, and so would be she. Surprisingly I had no doubt that she would understand and reciprocate my feelings.

She had replied “Yes”, without taking her eyes off me.

“From next time we can do the conversation in person. What do you say, Sameera?”

She had just smiled.

I convinced Krishna not to carry on the conversation any further, because if he did that, she would know that I am not Saarthi, and lose her trust in me. Krishna believed me, and the correspondence stopped.

We started seeing each other more and more often. Luckily for me Sameera never brought up the topic of those chats. Perhaps she wanted to leave things of past back, and start afresh, a relationship beyond the range of friendship.” Rajesh stopped to catch breath. He didn’t dare look up into the eyes of either Sameera or Krishna. There was a leaden feeling in his stomach. The silence was suffocating, vague, obscene.

There was a rustle of clothes as someone got up. “Can we talk for a second?” Rajesh looked up to see Aarthi standing at the door. Krishna stood up, his head held defiantly high, and walked out of the room after Aarthi.

“You know what,”, Sameera spoke, her voice surprisingly radiant and light, “I think you just prevented a divorce.”

Rajesh looked up, dumb-founded.

“Come on Rajesh, don’t give me that look. You think I used to write all those notes? NO. It was Aarthi .”

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“That day when you asked if I was the one, I couldn’t say NO. I couldn’t lose you.” Her eyes dropped, and cheeks took a crimson hue.

Actually I had seen Aarthi scribbling over the bench. I coaxed her into telling that she was sort of having a pen friend. She didn’t admit, but I could feel an undercurrent of possessiveness in her about this boy. That day she had gone to talk with someone, Ratna or Niharika maybe, I don’t remember. I came and sat in her place to look at those scribblings. It was romantic, and kind of funny to read. But only few sentences were legible, rest all gibberish, might be some code.

When you came and talked to me, she was close enough to hear what we talked about. After you went away, she came and silently picked her things and went and sat in my seat. She vacated the seat for me, forever. Once I mustered up the strength to go and apologize to her, and explain myself, but she waved it off, telling that you were not the guy she had envisioned, that you were ‘not her type’. Some months later, she left our department, and joined Mechanical.”

“So why did you ever propose to me, why did you marry me, if you were so deeply in love with Puja?”

Krishna smiled. “Because you were the closest version of Puja. Sometimes somethings you said were disturbingly similar to her. I even had suspected that you were the one. But time and time again my suspicion was shattered. You know why? Because no girl can be Puja . She is flawless, created half on the image of a girl and half from my own imagination. She can’t be for real.”

Aarthi was silent. Then she whispered, almost inaudibly, “For you, and you alone, I will be Puja.”

That night, in the deserted half lit corridor, as Krishna drew her in his arms, he could sense the truth behind the saying Marriages are made in heaven .

Its been a ReUnion indeed.