Altar of his dreams

Altar of his dream

This was the day of true happiness for Mr. Mukesh Dayal, for today he had accomplished his greatest dream.

For as long as he could remember it had been his dream that his only son, Amit, gets a job at one of the biggest MNCs. Mr. Dayal was a middle-class government servant, so he had what we can say typical middle class dreams. All his hopes were centered on his son to become his proxy and live the life he himself couldn't.

In his young days, Mr. Dayal had been a smart child in his average school and he had dreamed of becoming a very successful and rich man. When he wanted to go to Bombay to try his luck, his mother had reminded him that he was her only son and now when she was aging he wanted to leave instead of taking care of her. The emotional turmoil had wiped away all the plans for Bombay and Mr. Dayal had ended up doing medium pay job at government office. He got married the same year to a good looking girl and next year he was bestowed with a bundle that will bring him the joy of today. The day that baby was born Mr. Dayal resolved to make him successful and rich like he himself had wanted to be. So, began the journey of Amit Mukesh Dayal.

Amit had known his father's history, for all of his life, it had been repeated to him, by his father and his mother and sometimes his grand-mother or in Amit's words the 'true culprit'. Whenever Amit wasted time playing with his friends or got in any mischief, like all other boys his age were getting into, he would get scolded and reminded of his father's story. "I sacrificed for this family, and what for. To waste my money for your education, when you spend all the time playing?"

Amit would feel guilty after such scolding, and couldn't even cry because his father never resorted to hitting him. So he would ignore his friends still playing outside and pick up a book. As the gift from genetics, Amit had acquired the smarts from his father and was well than good at the academics. His father would buy all the books and some more for his son. He would enroll his son for all competitive exams. He would visit the teachers to get feedback on Amit's progress and so Amit's Academic carrier flourished. He topped his class every year, topped competitive exams at state even at national levels and was hailed as prodigy.

He was a prodigy, true, but an Art's one. He had talent with palette and canvas like no other student in his town. He knew that, his teachers knew that but no one ever addressed it.

"You can't make a career out of being an Artist."

"Well you can, theoretically speaking, but not a successful one. Not every other painter is M. F. Hussain."

"And you don't need to be an Artist if you can become a computer engineer."

Such were the opinions that got whispered around Amit from good-intentioned relatives and acquaintances.

Amit knew without asking that his father would never approve of his passion for painting. His father had considered the mandatory arts class till 10th standard as waste of time. So, he stowed away the treasured paint brushes and color palette and concentrated on study.

He came 1st in 12th standard state board exams. He topped entrance exam and got admitted to the IIT college. He studied obligingly, received high grades and highest praise from the teachers. When Google came recruiting they offered him a huge salary. It was such a great offer it made headline in newspapers, TV journalist came for interview at his house. His father was overjoyed. Finally, he had his dream within his grasp. Finally, he could boast to all his friends and relatives what a great son he had. How his sacrifice had brought such sweet fruit. This was his success.

When the joyous celebrations were a little settled, Amit sat at the dinner table with his family.

"So, when do you have to leave? So many things to prepare." His mother exclaimed.