( 6 months before meeting Tinkii)
When he was born things were different .No cries in the labor room , no waking up in
the middle of night to bug his parents . Thats How he got this name Atharv. Tharv in sanskrit means something that is unstable prefixing an A makes it the opposite “stable” .And here he was 21 yrs later hoping in the pubs at the new city he had landed into. Had grandma been alive at the moment she would have rechristened her to Tharv. If there was some word to describe the fellow it was “canvas fucking procrastinator” . He was a professional artist who entered into realms of modern art which he proudly hung in his 1 and a half bedroom apartment at chembur . Professionaly he was an art director for a media house.Why he decided to be an artist is another story . Procrastinator is a tag attached to him since his school days he wouldn't complete the homework and assignments which he thought useless back in school . So on one such occassion to rescue his hands from the wrath of a blaster cane , he participated in one drawing competition and emerged as the artist numero uno . That was the day he decided he'll take up this canvas fucking job as his career. Back in his senior school days , when puberty was playing with the hormones of the body , the artist in making was working hard . He had sketch of every beautiful gal in his school with and without clothes . He was a master in making the nude sketches and was in much demand with his pals .And parents thought the boy is talented. After finishing his school he went to study fine arts and graduated with “ flying colours “ . Every graduate of fine arts passes with flying colours for that matter.
Atharv was the only son of his parents . Everybody at home wanted him to be a Doctor.But he could not think of messing up cadavers with the scalpel . “artist are noble than doctors , doctors get life to someone little less of it , and artist get lifeless things to life” he would say always after screwing up in his Pre-Medicals. Only his mom could feel proud of an artist son . Though his father beleieved he was still a kid and it will take another decade when he realises his potential and moves to something productive .His dad was a govt servant working in a bank like most of the indian middle class people.
Now at 21 Atharv was living out of his home for almost 4 years and 7 months .
First four years graduating and seven months into a job as an Art director . He would miss the greens back at home. often at weekends .He would stand at the balcony of his home early in the mornings which gave a view of high rise buildings and yellow and black taxis raging on the flyovers . He would stand here and feel the chill of winters and used to mention it to his roomie “ The patio is good for nothing , no wonder modern art is appreciated in metros , for the beauty of nature can't be appreciated by those who haven't seen . We always appreciate the things here which belongs to us “ he will shut the door and switch on travel and living on his TV his favourite channels to watch on.
He had small hands with sharp fingers , perfect for holding paint brushes though small for a man of 5 feet 8 inches . He had a robust personality with broad shoulders , upright structure jet black hair cut short like military cadets . A clean shaven guy who was often seen in the rags for a jeans and plain kurtas like most artists in town . Though he was much a fashion honcho who will not hesitate to spot monocolour shirts from any colour in spectrum with any rock n roll figure on them a real digger for music he was .
-- TO BE CONTINUED
P.S Typos i know i suck at typing on my archaic keyboard