A Collection of Short Stories

A Poor Man's Gift

Dusk had set in. He did not get many customers that day. Another addition to his list of bad days. But Nikolai showed no signs of remorse. He had surrendered himself to his misfortune. He only had enough money to buy some food for that night.

He watched the crimson sun set as he walked back home. The sunset might have been romantic for the couples sitting on the benches of the park next to the road, or a reminder to the birds to fly back to their nests and feed the hatchlings, but to him it was just a sign of failure to earn enough money for surviving the next day.

He despised these long walks. The mists of memories deep within his entangled mind arise and delay his arrival, bringing the pain with them that slowed his pace further down. No matter how hard he tries to stop this process, it occurs anyway. He remembered the days when he was a kid and went to school. He was a bright student then, the pride of his teachers, envy of his classmates and admiration of his friends, who were few in number but were loyal.
It gave him pleasure when he thought of how his friends used to come to him with doubts regarding lessons and the way he used to clarify them effortlessly. "Dude your future is set! You'll have a great life ahead. Only God knows what will happen to me...", one of his friends used to tell him. He would laugh a little, taking good care not to hurt his friend's sentiments, and tell a few words of encouragement to cheer him up. Yes, he was a good student and a good friend. But there was one vice that clung inside his heart without him being aware of it. That vice was arrogance that took the shape of self-respect.
 
He always thought of himself as one who will lead others. Working under someone else was something he resented deeply. Therefore, seeing through this attitude of his, no company or agency hired him. He wasn't sad though, for he tried a venture of his own, making strange gadgets and contraptions which he stated, would make living easier and comfortable. But due to lack of experience, this venture failed.

In a professional career, it's much easier to serve a stranger than an acquaintance. The stranger would just pay the fees after the work is done but the acquaintance, who knows your story would not only make it difficult to work with a peaceful mind but after the completion of the work would try to offer you sympathy. Sympathy that would steal your sleep. Sympathies that constantly remind of how pathetic your life has become. Nikolai was living his nightmare.

And despite all these troubles, there was one person who stood by him and faced all the adversities with him and never complained. His childhood friend, who became his lover. His dear wife, Claire, who despite knowing that he hasn't achieved anything in his life, consented to marry him. He had only read about true love in stories but he came to believe it after he met this girl. She would welcome him home with a warm smile, take off his coat and serve him tea. Hardships had marred her beautiful features but her carefree smile had so much power that he would forget all his troubles. His heart would sink when he would discover that she has realised he has not earned enough that day, and the beautiful smile would die down a little. If she would have complained, it might have given him some respite because in her cheerful self, was hidden a sadness that never finds expression. And the fact that he could do nothing about it makes him desperate.

It began to drizzle, Nikolai didn't bother to raise his hood to shelter his head from the rain. He continued walking, although at a slightly brisker pace.

A few minutes later, he came across a caravan. Beside it, two people were having an argument. By seeing the composure, it wasn't hard to recognise that the stout man who stood erect with an air of superiority was the customer of the frail man with shabby clothes who was desperately trying to sell something. It was clear he didn't succeed, for a few moments later, the stout man walked away. Nikolai was no stranger to the sadness of having no customers and it didn't take him long to realise that the poor man had not sold a single thing that day. He approached the man to inquire what he was selling. A ray of hope elicited in the man and he showed Nikolai the painting that he held in his arms.

It was a painting of a man climbing a mountain, beyond which lay a beautiful landscape.
"This is a magnificent painting," said Nikolai. The painting was indeed beautiful but it was the man's condition that concerned Nikolai more. For a brief period of time, he forgot that he too was poor. He fished in his pockets to find only a few coins. Now suddenly conscious of the grim reality, he held them close to his chest and thought about buying food that night.

"I have slept many nights starving. It won't make a difference to me anyway. Let this poor guy not feel the sadness that I feel if only even for tonight." Thinking this, he kept a few coins to buy dinner for Claire and held out the rest to the man. The man's smile widened but he didn't take the money. "Keep it, Sir." He said.

Nikolai, being confused, asked him,"Why? I saw you trying to sell it to that man a few moments ago. What happened now?"

The man chortled and began," I always wanted to be a painter sir. But destiny had other plans for me. My father died when I was twelve years old and so I had to support my mother and my two little brothers and sisters all alone. I worked as a day-labour at several places to find enough money for the day to feed my family. I let go of my dream and accepted my fate. Then one day, the slum where we lived caught fire. I had been miles away working at a farm. I arrived only to find the ashes of my family. Sadness tore me apart but no tears came out. I became lost in my sorrow."

"Then one day, I realised nothing would change what had happened. By remaining sorrowful, I am only harming myself. All I could do was to improve my own condition and find something to work on that would make me forget about it. I decided to revive my dream of painting. At first I stole, then I traded and finally, with the money I had made, I was able to buy the paint and canvas. This picture is the first one that I have made. For days I have been trying to sell it to people who rejected it saying it was too expensive. No matter how much I decreased the price, no one was willing to buy it. I had almost given up hope of ever painting again when you arrived, sir. You gave me the one thing that no amount of money can buy. You gave me hope, to paint again."

"And don't worry about the money sir, I am a friend of hunger long before I can remember myself as a kid. Hunger is no stranger to me. Please keep the picture if you like it. I shall paint again and keep painting till this body runs out of breath."

Nikolai stood motionless for a few moments. The warmth and pain in the smile of the man made his misery seem minuscule. He managed to keep the tears welling up in his eyes. He thanked the poor man for that portrait and walked away as fast as his legs could carry.

That night, when Claire had slept after eating dinner, Nikolai took out the portrait and placed it on his table. Then he took out an odd-looking instrument from beneath the drawers. This was a device he was working on before he got denied for all the jobs he had applied for. Maybe it was a message to focus on the device, that he received quite late but nothing seemed to trouble him anymore now. He began working on it again.

Nikolai did not know the name of the man who had given him inspiration in the form of this painting, nor did he tell him his. So even after becoming a great inventor after 12 years, he kept the painting with him framed in gold, and hung in his study room, to keep the memory of the man alive. He didn't know that the man had become the most sought-after painter whose paintings now sold in millions. Both of them now served as inspirations to many young artists and inventors. But no one knew of the night they both saved each other...