Shades of Black
by Yamini Murty
Confined in a room. Since ages.
He tries to make out what sunshine is.
“Dadda, I can see something behind you”
“What is it son?”
“Something dark, exactly your shape.”
“It’s called a shadow.”
“Can I sketch it the way I want it. I don’t like the eleventh finger on your right hand”
“You are an artist’s son, I am sure you can sketch anything the way you want it.”
“Let’s call it Dadda’s Silhouette. You cannot alter a shadow, son”
He said nothing. His play with coal stubs created a speech.
Free bird with concealed feelings - an outline of what he desired.
The Governor’s imperial building spread over 5 meters of the wall.
The traffic - chaotic, yet balanced.
A rush of black- deep and faded;
Movements, imposing a flurry of emotions.
A splash of red, in black, showing the blood oozing out a toddler’s head.
The next 2 meters of the wall depicted an idiosyncratic imbalance.
The participants in the balanced traffic seemed to cover their own shadows. The Governor’s building stood tall amongst the bodies lying on the ground.
He was indicted. Stranded on an island in Asia.
The 7 years made him explore the darkness.
It became difficult for him to sketch the human features.
The last patch on the wall consisted of a Silhouette- that of a young lad trying to sketch a shadow.