"Ember, happy birthday," A blonde maid with curly hair and a brunette butler with blue eyes wished him as they stood before Ember with a chocolate cake.
"Yay, thank you, Elysine! Wagner!" Ember was four back then. A birthday to him, like all other kids his age, was the best day of his life and he wanted to celebrate it with his family. Maple and Loraine were in London back then, which left him with his father.
"Why don't you cut the cake, Ember?" The maid asked.
"No, I want daddy to be here when I cut it!" Ember smiled.
"Alright," She smiled and left for his father's office.
"Tell him I'm busy. I can't attend today,"
"But it's your son, sir. It will just take a few minutes,"
"I don't even have seconds to spare, Elysa."
"Elysine,"
"Whatever. I can't bother remembering a maid's name. Leave me alone,"
"But what do I tell to Ember?"
"I don't care. You have one job, do it right or get the hell out,"
"Yes, sir,"
. . .
"Summer vacations are gonna start tomorrow. What are your plans?" AJ asked Meenu.
"Same old, going to my cousins' place. I hate my cousins," Meenu shrugged her shoulders.
"My cousin is cool. We watch desi porn every time we meet," AJ said.
"Bet you even sword fight sometimes then,"
"With our own swords, yeah?"
"Dude, that is gay and incestuous,"
"I'm not fucking him. We're fucking ourselves,"
"Can we just-Rhea, what are you doing these vacations?"
"I'm going to help my cousin," Rhea smiled.
"Aw, such a nice cousin you are, Rhea,"
"Not really, she said she'd pay me if I do,"
"What?!" Meenu and AJ shouted together.
"This is so unfair. Why don't I have cousins like that," AJ slapped his forehead.
"What about you, Ember?" Meenu asked.
"Well, nothing much. I'm just going to a festival," Ember smiled.
"A festival?" Rhea asked.
"Nason is organizing one here this year,"
"WHAT?!" She got up.
"Stop gossiping! SIT DOWN!" The teacher shouted.
"I'd just be happy to move away from this guy for a month," AJ mumbled.
After the class was over, Rhea and Ember walked out the mall, to where she had parked her bicycle.
"Ember, tell me more about that festival," Rhea asked.
"Oh yeah, you should come actually," He shoved his hands inside his bag and took out a small envelope, "Here" He passed it to her.
"What is this?" She looked at the card.'lnternational Nason Anime Conference And Review Fiesta 2018' That was what it read.
"A pamphlet for the festival. You must come," Ember insisted, "Nason organises it every year in June. This year we are doing it here in India,"
"You organize an entire festival?!" Rhea asked.
"Yeah, we give back ten per cent of our annual earnings as a gift to our viewers in form of a festival. It's huge, you should attend it, you won't regret it,"
He sat behind her bicycle and she looked at him, "I'm sorry, I can't. My parents would never allow me to,"
"Well, I guess in that case," Ember looked at her and smiled, "You just gotta fight for it,"
"Look, I can't. My parents don't like it when I fight over stuff like this," She brought the envelope before him, "I'm sorry,"
"You said you'd fight for me. We made a promise," He continued smiling, "Breaking it already?"
Her grip over that envelope loosened and Ember noticed it.
"It's alright," He took the envelope from her, "I understand,"
She quietly got on her bike and pushed the stand away. She began paddling as he sat behind her. It was an unusually quiet ride. They stopped before those same old and grey buildings. He got down from the bicycle, "Thank you for the ride," He smiled, "I'll...see you after vacations then," She looked at him go.
"Ember," She called his name and he turned back.
"Yes?"
"Give me that envelope,"
"Huh? But you said your parents don't like it when-"
"My parents don't like anything I do," She interrupted him and snatched the envelope from him, "Doesn't mean I won't do it,"
His white face turned pink, "But..."
She smiled, "I'll be there, I promise,"
He smiled, "Then, June twenty seven,"
"Gotcha!"
. . .
"And? What are you going to do?" Jessica asked as she painted her acrylic nails with nail art stickers. Rhea had her phone on speaker beside her as she stood before a canvas.
"I don't know," She looked at her paintbrush, "He got so sad when I told him I won't come, I couldn't watch it,"
"Of course you couldn't," Jessica smirked.
"It's just..." Rhea dipped her paintbrush into an orange hue, "I don't know what to do,"
It was nearly midnight and she was alone in her room, painting something while talking to her cousin on phone, "I have been painting things in my mind since more than ten years now. Somewhere or the other, I never completely dropped painting. But I actually never really liked it, I never felt it in my heart.
Although I started because I wanted to, not because of a decision based on parental influence, I never really felt the brush carrying something I wanted to convey. I was sad and angry every time I painted and was frustrated when I couldn't become better. Painting meant so much to me, so why wasn't I able to paint? Slowly, I gave up on it, leaving it back in a dusty way, with excuses of trauma whereas in reality,
I just...couldn't do it,"
Rhea painted as she talked, she didn't calculate her words anymore, she was talking freely, from her heart to her mouth. Her father woke up to drink some water from the kitchen when he heard her talk in her room. He came close to her door, almost knocking at it, asking her to go to bed since it was pretty late, "The people I care about, I keep losing them because of my choices. But I still have feelings towards my instrument," He stopped and stood outside her door, with his hand still hanging in front of the door, his fingers curled up, ready to knock at her door, but his body just seemed to have frozen.
"It almost sounds abnormally ridiculous how one can be so obsessed over art and I always wondered if there are people, asking themselves how one could take it so seriously. But at this point I have realised that, I take it so seriously too. Every time I painted, my palms were sweating out of nervousness. Just like others, I focused on being perfect not on painting in a meaningful way for others or even for myself. I never really needed much more than admiration for art and putting it down so I could show the world what it is like to see from my eyes. In the end I could never completely give up on it, I always found my way back to it because it was always there.
After meeting Ember, I saw something I never did. I can't explain what it is, not yet at least but it was strong enough to make me start painting again, which I thought I would never do. As I started, it looked so different, I finally saw what I was painting. I think I understand now how it feels when the thing you love the most, becomes the thing you cannot reach no matter how often you try.
That conversation with Loraine made me realise a lot of things. My weaknesses, my indiscriminate ability to start depending on something because of that weakness, and breaking my own heart when it doesn't turn out to be the way it seemed to be. The pressure, the thoughts, the past, the coincidences, the perfectionism I was dealing with were louder than the colours on my board. It was blinding,"
She narrowed her eyes as she focused deeply on a blue hue she was slowly mixing with a yellow one, over a pink base, Ember appeared behind her canvas in a sailor uniform, pressing his pink knuckles over his white canvas. It was all her imagination, so powerful that it was taking shape. But it was a faint image and his features weren't very detailed because hadn't memorized the various intricacies of his face, the hyperpigmentation near his jaw, the redness under his eyes, the tiny brown freckles around his blonde side buns, the wrinkles around his blue eyes, nothing. His skin was as plain as a sheet of paper. She looked at him and smiled,
"I am finally able to play with colours in a way I always wanted to play and now I understand that there was a purpose almost ten years ago when I decided to take this beautiful little wooden thing with me," She looked at the wooden brush with a smile and Ember looked at the distorted painting before her, "It still looks ridiculous, I know," She admitted.
He looked at her, "But I am finally in love with painting again, with my tools and with my life. The pressure I have been feeling is reduced and I can feel the colors in my heart, bombarding my soul. Thank you Ember for sharing every feeling you could share and changing my life in such a positive way. How could I ever forget you?"
He smiled and slowly disappeared into the painting. She took the canvas board and kept it to dry in a corner of her room. Jessica didn't say a word and neither did her father. Rhea kept the paintbrush into a bowl of water, "I think I should sleep now, I am tired,"
"But...You still haven't figured out how you will to the festival," Jessica sounded worried.
"I'll find some way, I made a promise after all,"
"Okay, call me if you need me,"
"I will, good night," She hung up and switched off her lights.
Her father went back to his room and lay on his bed. He looked at the dark ceiling overhead. Slowly, darkness enveloped his eyes and sleep took over.
-To be continued
Can't I Touch Your Heart?
Teach Me The Art of Living