I live with your heart (literally)

Hazel eyes?

                   A week passed after my  crazy
encounter with the person who kept me alive.Against my fair assumptions as to how I will loose myself for his whole painting  mania I find me indulged in a composition which even in it's  initial stages managed to pull the strings of my heart.Randhir did not turn out to be a selfish jerk after all. He gave me space with the hope that I would keep my promise in near future.I think it is a ghost thing that he never rushes or gets restless.May be because he has all the time in the world to be what he is. He got all vibrant this morning when I told him let's  do your stuff for some time.
Right  now I am driving my scooty with him clinging to me like a scared puppy, to his work space.

You do realise that you are not gonna die again, don't  you?

Stop being so practical all the time.I never  rode one of these and truly feel that this thing is highly unstable.Accidents happen on 4 wheels so 2 wheels is just outrageous .

You are such a baby Rd.

Get me out of this life snatching machine and I will show you how much of a child I am by popping in a nice little spider in your hair or should it be  lizard.

I got flushed with shame  and couldn't  find a good come back.From that stupid  day when I cried out loud on spotting an awfully disgusting frog in my soap dish Rd never left any opportunity to get under my skin with all the scary insects on 4 to10000000 feet.To add to the shame of been scared off by a thing as tiny as my eyelash I ran out clad in my towel screaming my head out, embarssing I know.
After hours of him giving directions I heared a Stop we are here. I was spell bound.It was a beautiful cottage by what looked like a private beach.The palm trees , the setting sun,the glass doors and walls everything locked straight out of a movie,I made a mental note to buy a similiar one with my next pay check.The breeze was salty yet full of life which is quite ironical as I walked in with a dead boy.He lead me inside and I got swept off my feet in a poetic way when all those rough strokes with what I assumed to be charcoal sank in.The walls were full of them scattered yet put together to mean something .It was like the careful mess of scattered images were screaming out a story but forgot my ears.Amidst of the brilliant chaos  there were 4 colourful bright pro paintings on real canvases which was truly a relief as I at a point of time doubted the mental health  of my comrade owing to the amount of pain blaring out from the walls..By the time I was drooling over what I thought was out of my comfort zone Randhir found his tool kit and asked me to fetch a long sleek brush.He directed me to mix colours and gave me a boring lecture about the basics which I found melodiously boring...Frustrated with my weak grasping power he involuntarily  plunged his arm into mine and it got into mine as though it was made of mist.Whoh wait a minute mist with a brain as it started controlling mine and made gentle strokes on the canvas.I could say that Randhir was equally surprised.

What is happening.

Whatever it is , it's good.I am saved from the trouble of tutoring a pathetic illiterate.

I was pissed off would be the understatement of the century.But then I was at debt and that made me avoid his taunts.I stared at the paintings one by one trying to grasp the inner meaning as a true art critic.I paused at one of the dated signatures .It was on the oldest painting.Somehow the date seemed very familiar to  me , 5th June 2014.Where did I see it shuks how could I forget .I was broken from  my trance when Rd shook me.

Where were you come let's catch some fresh air.

He had completed his work it was of a man whose soul got torn away from him and the soul had.........      HAZEL EYES.