❝ You can paint anything on a blank paper; just hold the paintbrush first. ❞
. . . .
Life seems like a fun roller coaster ride until it drops back down at a higher speed; and you don't know how to breathe at that point. My life is no less than that kind of fun ride.
It's shiny just like the sun who's now playing hide & seek with the clouds. Sometimes with blazing fire; sometimes like a child — poking behind. It's scorching heat unlike the weather of Alaska. Always cold; but very calming.
My choice of getting here in NYC, can be described in many ways. One triumph card— I wanted to get away from my parents. I know, you must be wondering what kind of an ungrateful child I am.
Let me take you in a rewind story then. I'm the only child of my parents, fun fact they didn't bother for another since they're already fed up with the result of their reckless adventure.
Frankly speaking, it didn't bother me. They're always busy in their life; and I was left with my grandparents. Happy old times; now only nostalgia crawls back in the spine.
My day seems shallow now; same as old routines like getting up at 7 am, making something edible to eat, and running for the bus. For bread; I only have a small job in the coffee shop. Life was on the track when grandpa was alive. One of the reasons why I had wanted to be here.
I wanted to build an identity for myself; a little freedom you can say. So when I got a chance in the reputed college of NYC, my first instinct was to grab the chance by any crook.
It wasn't easy to convince my parents; even though they really don't care much — they were a bit possessive of me. But grandpa, he was always supporting. Since, he used to live here all by himself— I got the perfect chance to live here with him. Yeah, that was my cue to get my freedom.
The last four years were the best time of my life. I used to live with my grandpa, making new friends, able to do what I have always wanted, and a part-time job in the coffee shop.
Until, the health of grandpa: started to fall down. And his demise last year, broke my every hope. I'm currently living in an old house; which grandpa left behind before his death. Thou' I don't need to worry about paying rent; but it's getting tough now with all the expenses.
The bus halted down; I am back at the harsh dreaming fantasy now; with the sweat drops. I started to look here & there.
Oh no! Sucks man, I am getting late again! Why the heck there's always going to be a huge traffic? I can never understand the system of NYC even after living many years now. Unlike any other big city; it's always rusting in the busy crowds. People don't even glance at each other here.
In a way, it's fine. Since I ain't a fan of being in the spotlight, it helps me to gather my thoughts. I guess there's no way; the traffic will be cleared in another hour. It's better if I walk from there.
Bustling up to walk from the busy alley, as much it seems easy; it's not. My phone started to ring in the meanwhile.
"Hello! Derrick, yes yes! I'm coming," I said.
"You better hurry up, Rylee. Martha is fussing here."
"Maybe she woke up in the wrong side," I said.
"Who knows!"
I hang up, noticed the message of my mother. It's better if I act oblivious to the text. I know she's asking me to come back. Gotta dispel the thoughts for now.
The roadside is clean for now, I started to hurried my ways. Although my job is at the cashier; Martha — the owner, can be dangerous when she's in a bad mood.
**********
The bell rang while I was entering. Guess, no one is particularly seen. Oop— near escape. And I bumped into someone.
"Ah, there you're! Where have you been?" Derrick exclaimed.
"Nothing much, you know the traffic. I ain't bragging but even though it's a good city: it lacks the decent value of people's time," I said.
"I know, by the way I have some news for you."
"You seem happy, so it must be good news," I said while getting up at the cashier.
"I got the job at the company. And salary is about good amount," Derrick said.
"Oh my gosh! I'm so happy for you. At least one of us, got a decent job," I exclaimed with joy.
"Yes, at least some ray of hope. Don't worry, Rylee. You will find something too. I know it's been months now; we've graduated," he said, squeezing my shoulder.
"Don't know, Derrick. Life can be a little too much when each day is like a battlefield. Anyways, my mum wants me to go back to Alaska." I said.
"Ugh! You better not go back. I know, Rylee. It's okay to not be okay. Something is definitely waiting for you."
I just give him a half smile, I know he's just assuring me but at this point; these little things are getting pointless for now. So it's better if I pay attention to something else.
One, two, three — . . . . The little room is filled with unknown crowds who need caffeine to continue in their relentless life.
********
Days are turning into nights, but when every point of view is getting blurred, it stimulates the growth of evolution — I am getting more tired each day.
The city lights are illuminating the dark night now. I saunter my ways towards the old wrenching house. It's old; yet cosy enough to be called home.
When my Grandpa & Granny, used to live here— it used to be more lively. A house; not only built-in with brick-bat but a thousand memories had been stitched right there. That's why I love to stay here; thou' I am nearly getting broken.
I took a shower to get rid of this fatigue; but as they say when you're living in an era of sulking mood— nothing can bring joy. I guess I should make spaghetti & sauce. Yup! That should work for now.
Ah. . . I totally forgot. Today I was supposed to get a letter from the companies where I've applied for jobs.
It's my 15th time. Sometimes, they need someone who has experience; or those who intend to hire, the prices are low.
Going to the courtyard; I opened the mail box; and saw that there were actually some letters. A glint of ray; awake in my sombre state. But it's too early to reach any conclusion.
While opening the letters; it's not very much soon— the familiar sting of hurt, started to sink slowly again.
Damn! I have thrown the letters; being anguished now. One by one, the tears are facing into my distress. That's when I noticed a white sheet. I was about to throw it too. . . .
I remembered something.
********
I was ten years old back then. As usual my parents weren't with me. And I was enjoying my summer vacation in Alaska with my grandparents.
As a child; like my grandma — I was a huge fan of creative arts. So, whenever I'd a chance; I always used to sit with a paper or canvas & started making random doodles with the paintbrush.
Seeing my enthusiasm; Granny started to teach me how to make a proper painting. It's slow at first but then I'd ideas how to gather the colours vividly; and stimulate them in an eye-opening way.
And that evening; I was trying hard to make something edible; but the arrangements of colours weren't coming in the proper way. I was frustrated with myself. It's more like — I'd the idea programmed in the brain; but failing to bring them in a paper.
I was upset, so I was wandering & grazing outside. And then, Grandpa made his way towards me & sat beside me.
"What are you doing, honey?" He asked.
"Nothing! Grandpa," I replied.
"Ah, come on. You know you can tell me what's bothering you," he spoke with a half heartedly smile.
Grandpa always knew how to calm my nerves, it's not sooner — and I told him about my failing attempts.
He chuckled upon hearing my miseries. Although I felt he was mocking me, he took my hands to go into the drawing room.
"Look, what we have got there. A blank canvas, right? These are the colours; although three colours are invidious, the others are the result of mixing together," he said while arranging them in front of me.
I was startled with his carefree state. I asked him, "What's your point, Grandpa?"
He chuckled & said, "Have patience, my child! Look, you see it as a blank paper. When you take the paintbrush; you smear some colours on it, right?"
I nodded at him.
He continued, "Okay! What if I take those paint brushes from you now? What will you do with this blank canvas?"
I stared at him; more like a puzzled expression.
Sensing it, he just smiled at me & said, "Rylee, sometimes we always don't need to know what we gotta do now. Just like this blank canvas & paintbrushes. I know, your idea is vague now. But hold the paintbrush first."
And I did; just like he said.
"You can make random lines, at first it may seem uncertain; impecunious — but don't stop right there. Go ahead with the colours," he said.
I started to smear the colours; though my idea of landscape was vague at that time, I started to dip colours of red; to make it dark — I started to shade it with other colours as well.
Finally, it's something — I could say. Not the perfect painting, but a visual impact to catch the eyes of many. I was beaming with joy.
Grandpa was proud of me, and hugged me. But I was confused with something. Grandpa didn't know how to paint but how did he know about this method?
I asked him, "Grandpa, I have a question. How did we know it would work in this way?"
He smiled & caressing my hands he replied, "Rylee, what I have said earlier — it wasn't any tricks of a painter but those were experiences."
I was baffled & maybe too much to comprehend for my ten years old.
He added, "Our life is like a blank canvas, Rylee. When many of them give up by seeing this blank canvas; I want you to know that you shouldn't. This blank canvas is the perfect sheet — where you can paint it with any colour. It's up to you. You can mould it with any shade."
"What about you, then?" I asked him.
He said, "My half of life is done now, Rylee. You can say some colours are already smeared here; some have faded. But I have no regrets. I have enjoyed all those shades.
But yours, is a start of many new beginnings. Obstacles will be present in the forms of black dots; just don't focus solely on those. You have the whole blank sheet. Just think, how you can fit them in the beautiful art."
"What if I don't have any idea, just like this painting?" I asked him in a sour mood.
"Oh, Rylee. Then just start with the paintbrush. You have done it here. See, you have made a beautiful landscape. You didn't have an idea before, but stroking the paintbrushes — you have made something with the colours. You will do something for your life too, don't worry," he said.
Although half of the words didn't make any sense to them back at that time— but I gave him a grateful smile since he helped me with the painting.
And we went to the kitchen to show my grand painting to Granny.
********
I still remember the words perfectly. What Grandpa said: is making perfect sense now. And I know what to do with my blank canvas.
The city lights are getting off now, the dark abyss is slowly sinking. Just like my dark pace of time, the moon is playing hide & seek with the clouds.
My hunger disappeared long ago, so I decided to go to bed since my exhaustion started to kick in.
While looking at the window; one sentence is ringing in the bell now. I can't throw the paintbrush, I have to hold it again just like the old times.
And it's up to me, where I can smear the colours. It wouldn't be much, but still something. Because there's always a way.
━━━━━━
Too much for comprehending? Don't know, but don't forget to share your thoughts here. :))