The Story of an old drawing

Many many years ago, when I was just a school boy, I found a stunning photograph in a book. A young man sitting on a small boat and playing a simple bamboo flute. I copied that in my sketchbook in pencil. A couple of years passed by. One day I found that drawing again. A shaky pencil sketch. I tore the page off for a reproduction on a bigger scale. Bought an art paper about 24x34 inches, pearly white in color. Got a bottle of black permanent ink and a size 4 brush.

It took about an hour and fifteen minutes to bring it to almost completion. All I needed to do was sign it. Then my mother called from the kitchen. Actually she was calling me for quite sometime for dinner. I thought in a hurry, "Let me finish my dinner and come back to sign it". But the heaven intended otherwise. It was winter. I was wearing a shawl, the end of which caught a little bit of the ink bottle, kept so carelessly open. In a blink of an eye, the painting was smeared beyond repair. Then to make matters worse the ink fell on the new carpet on the floor. It was a big ugly black blotch. I gave up. Collected the bottle and the brush and then called my mother to rescue.

I was sad that the painting was gone so soon, but happy than I didn't get a beating for ruining the carpet. My uncle used the other side for his rough architectural drawings.

After almost two decades I found that small pencil sketch reference. This time in a much smaller scale, I put it in my notebook. Also being cautious, I used dry media!


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