The Last Love Letter

Chapter 50

For Subah, the next three days passed like some kind of dream.
Her world was dull without Akash by her side, but she knew that everything else that was happening to her was good. All her works had been sold, and there was nothing left for her to pack and take back.

One day before her exhibition was to conclude and after they had sold the last of her works, Mr Taraporewala invited her to his brother’s café for Irani chai. While he was ordering, Subah added that she would like to have her chai with bun-maska. He nodded, a hint of a smile on his face.

‘Okay, so we have one day remaining, but there’s nothing left for us to show. What would you like me to do?’

Subah had anticipated this and spoken to the management during the lunch break, making a proposal that had brought smiles to their faces. It was time for her to put her plan into action.

‘Last evening, I went for a stroll in the Flora Fountain, Churchgate and CST station areas. I’ve selected five artists—three young men and two women—who were selling their art on the street. All in their early twenties, except for one woman, who seemed to be in her sixties.’ The tea was served, and she continued after they had taken their first sips. ‘They will exhibit their works in my hall. Let them keep all the money they make. Management has already given their approval.’

Mr Taraporewala smiled, and she was surprised to see how it lit up his face. She hadn’t seen him smile like that before. ‘That’s really good, really good.’

‘Thank you! And you look so good when you smile, Mr Taraporewala. Why don’t you smile more often?’

His smile faded a bit as he said, ‘It’s a long story, Subah Madam. I’ll share it with you some day. But seriously, thank you, this is the best gift you could have given to the city of Mumbai.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You know, there are many artists in our world, but very few like you, who know how to keep art alive by contributing meaningfully.’

They finished the bun-maska, and before departing, she said, ‘Mr Taraporewala, I’ll be leaving tonight. Thank you for all your help. You’re a gem.’

‘I’m an ordinary person. You are a gem who sees everyone else as a gem. Goodbye, Subah Madam. I hope to see you again soon.’

Subah had not changed rooms after Akash left. She slept alone, the memory of the last evening with Akash keeping her sanity intact. Akash hadn’t called, but he had sent her a couple of emails saying that the campaign was doing well.

Subah returned to Delhi on the evening of the same day she had bid farewell to Mr Taraporewala. Upon her arrival, she took a cab straight home from the airport.
Bala opened the door and said, ‘Subah, it’s so good to see you.’

The two women embraced in her home in Vasant Kunj. After chatting with Bala for a while, she climbed the stairs to check out her studio. When she switched the lights on, her world came alive: unfinished paintings, unsold paintings, raw ideas on canvas, paint brushes, palettes, paints, stands, varnish bottles, stained towels, water cups and sketchbooks.

Subah was home. In her city.
Also the city where Akash lived. In reality, she knew, there wasn’t any ‘happily ever after’ for them. But reality was no longer a burden, now that she had a memory to cling to.