Love of Arts Series - Book 1 - Painting Art (Darshana - Hridhay, Vedakumar)
Hridhay
My father was a demon in business and he wanted me to be one. Yes, I'm a demon, now, managing what he established and building it into an empire every passing day.
A...
It's a double update, so please read Chapter 9 before continuing
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Darshana
Why is Hridhay always a mystery between soberness and slumberness?
I take my hand to touch his hand that is cupping my face but he removes it when we hear my mother's voice, "Darshi." Hridhay gets off my bed and moves to his, sitting on it.
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My parents follow Ashok Anna upto to my bed. My mom hugs me and checks if I have any burns. "Yen di ippadi enga uyira vangura? Erira building kula nee odratha news la pathu en eerakolaiye nadinguduchu." (Why are you killing us with your actions? When I saw you running inside the burning building, I almost collapsed.)
"Maa enakku onnum aagala," I tried to console her. (Ma, I'm fine, nothing happened to me.)
"Enna onnum aagala?" My dad who was silent and staying afar spoke out. "Unnai pathrama pathukuren nu sonna varaithai kaaga un pinnadi vanthu avan anga aadipatu ukanthu irukan. Unnala avanukku perusa ethacem agi iruntha? Illa appadi enna antha paintings mela paithiyam unnaku? Anga Hridhay illa firemen ah late ah vanthu iruntha? Unakku enna agi irukum konjam yosichu paathiya? Thattu la suda suda dosa iruntha kooda un kai pathikuthu nu thudipa. Engala pathi oru second nenachu paathiya?" (What else do you want to happen? Since he promised me to take care of you, he went to save you and now he is sitting with stitches. What if anything had happened to him? Why are you so crazy over those paintings? Did you just think what could have happened to you if Hridhay and firemen hadn't reached on time? You can't even bear the pain of hot dosa on the plate and scream it's hurting. Did you even think of us for a second?)
"Appa sorry pa, antha gallery eriratha paathathum ennaku naan enna panren enna pesuren nu onnum ye therila. Sorry pa," I tried to hug him but he stopped me. (I couldn't think or act properly when I saw the gallery burning.)
"Ivlo naal nee enna pannanum nu aasai paatiyo aatha ellam panna vittoam. Aana ithuku meeri mudiyathu. Inimel nee antha artist ah thedi antha gallery ko avan veliya varuvan nu antha beach ko poga kodathu. Poga maata nu sathiyam panna," he forwards his hand. (All these years, we let you do what you wished but not anymore. Hereon you should not go in search of that artist to his gallery or his beach house. Promise me you won't.)
I look at my dad, mom, Ashok Anna and Hridhay. My parents and Ashok Anna are waiting for me to promise but Hridhay maintains his emotionless stone face.
"Appa, please pa. Naan inimel intha maari panna maaten pa. Promise mattum vendam pa," tears run down my face but he shakes his head. (I would not repeat this, dad. Please don't ask me to promise.)
"Naanga venum nu decide paniko. Engala enga ponna evanaiyo theedi paithiyam maari porathula engaluku virupam illa. Unakku art mela passion thaan nu nenachu ivlo naal vittom aana ipo athu unakku oru obsession ah maariduchu." I shake my head at him as he has misunderstood me. "Promise me," my dad talks to me over an octane which he has never done. (You decide what you want. We don't want our girl to run behind an unknown artist. Thinking as art is your passion, we let it slide but it has turned into your obsession.)
