Artist - Part 1 in English Short Stories by Dharmik Vyas books and stories PDF | Artist - Part 1

Featured Books
Categories
Share

Artist - Part 1

Artist

1. Kala "Let's give a huge round of applause for our next performer Nikhil Baraiya" was announced from the stage and a dashing 25-year-old man with long hair, wearing a black hood, blue jeans and aviator frame glasses entered. The auditorium erupted with applause and cheers from the audience. And then there was a silent silence. The audience was eager to listen to Nikhil. Art was also one of them, and the most keen today. Perhaps even more than a performer. The silence in the auditorium and Nikhil's first word may have been only half a minute, but in that time Kala's entire past passed before his eyes. And she reached the day when she heard Nikhil for the first time….

Kala was enjoying the weekend with her sisters in a small cafe. One artist after another was pouring his days' hard work into the ears of the people through the microphone in a short interval of 10-10 minutes. People who didn't have time to pay attention to him or his art. Art was also involved in conversation. Suddenly a voice caught his attention.


"In the dimness of the door of my loneliness...... And with that, Kala entered a new chapter in her life called Nikhil. Well, then his attention shifted from the talk to the words being spoken from the stage and the person speaking even more than that. One look at the unmissable face, athletic body, tall height and very soft voice! After the performance was over, Kala joined the conversation again, but her eyes were only on Nikhil. The waiter came with the bill. Paying the bill took only 5 minutes of attention and Nikhil disappeared in that time. Kala regretted not praising Nikhil's art but also got an excuse to call her and talk. Before leaving, Kala got his name and number from the manager of the cafe.

The next day evening he dialed the number and the conversation went on for hours. Both decided to meet next Sunday. It didn't take long for the conversation to turn into a meeting and the meeting into a relationship. Both started meeting every Sunday. Every time Nikhil would write a new poem for Kala and recite it. Gradually he started getting more and more work. Moving on from cafes, he started doing paid programs with friends in small halls, on someone's wedding or anniversary. But the one who spoke on the stage and the one who recited the poem to art were always different. Every time he recited the poem saying "This is only for you!". Kala used to listen to him attentively. His mind was not full. She used to say many times why write only one poem, I want to hear more". And every time Nikhil would reply that 'Listen to my own words, do you love me or my poetry?' Then she would reply that "Both are different?". And both laughed. This dialogue was deeply etched in Kala's mind. Remembering that again today, flashbacks of his life sped up before his eyes. Frame after frame began to pass before the eyes and it suddenly came to a halt on the day when his life was shaken.

On that day, Nikhil was to perform a show for the first time in a big auditorium in the city. He was nervous but art gave him courage so he was now ready to perform. Kala was sitting on one of the seats in the front row. Nikhil looked at him and started speaking and as soon as his performance was over. Overall everyone had fun. Kala was clapping even after everyone stopped clapping. And that was the biggest success for Nikhil. Kala ran backstage after the program was over. All the actors were changing in the dressing room. By mistake, the door of the room was left ajar. As Kala was waiting near the door, she could hear the conversation going on inside. She immediately recognized one voice which was Nikhil's. The sound of which now at least thousands were crazy. But the second voice was completely unfamiliar which did not match the voice of any person who spoke on the stage. Nikhil said, "Man, there is no question whether we have to speak written by ourselves. But when so many people are listening to you and you only know that what I am saying is not written by me, then what in the head I know that pressure is created".

The answer came from the front:

"One is me and one is my picture, where is anyone's chance to meet both."

'Man, what do you do to take Nahak's tension. If, all the people on this earth walk around wearing masks. No one speaks what is in the mind and does nothing of what is spoken. The only difference in your speech is that it is wearing the seal of a living man, that is, me. The ground moved under Kala's feet. She was not ready to stand there for a single moment. A question he had heard many times echoed in his mind "Are I and my poetry different!?" And now today he had an answer.

respectively: