‘Damn!’ ‘I don’t want to do it anymore!’ ’ I am a loser! ‘
The Buddha stared at him, a smile on its face. It was an artefact that stood on the window sill in Promod’s room. It was a gift from his granny on his last birthday.
At present the boy was lying face down, on his bed, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.
‘I know that Jomal will again hit me on the head, calling me a fatso! And that Jodu! He will curl up his lower lip and say, ‘So sad! Wish you had slimmed a little!’ And Beenu would be having an impish grin on his face!
He just wanted to avoid them! Burning with resentment, Promod sat near his writing table. His eyes wavered towards the porcelain figure. It was so calming. As he stretched grasping it, his fingers met coolness. The smile of Buddha calmed him down.
His grandmother’s words rang in his ears. The Buddha seemed to speak and the cool porcelain soothed his hands as he clasped the figurine.
‘Promod, you are not alone beta! There are instances when we don’t get what we earnestly seek-be it love or companionship.”
It was so true! Slowly, Promod opened his table drawer and placed a sketch book in front of him. The micron pens were calling out to him. He picked the pen and started to draw the face of Buddha. He found it calming, as his fingers drew lines, followed by jots of ink. The lotus buds sprang up , circling the Buddha. Buddha smiled!
The Buddha statue watched the boy of ten, who was beginning to accept life, and make ways to find solace. Friends , companions can emerge from unexpected places and lift one towards betterment.
The Buddha knew that Promod would rise like a sphinx, but it look a little encouragement. It waited for Promod to break free of his inhibitions.
His grandmother’s words ran through Promod’s calmed mind. ‘You draw so well! Why don’t you draw for the upcoming event at school. I know you will do so well.’
Promod, sat determined, and with an array of colours, deftly swung his brush to and fro and across, a light smile on his glowing face.
He took a couple of sketch pens and drew a beautiful border.
With gradual strokes, swirls and a little magic, the Buddha was finished with care.
The Buddha smiled with him. The message had been delivered.
It was four thirty when he finished. It was time go meet his tormentors on the playground.
Buddha watched Promod, as the ten year old carefully kept the finished painting clipped to the board. He no longer looked agitated. Rather, there was a peaceful smile on his face. He put on his best sports t-shirt ,then with his head held high, and his football resting on his elbow, he made is way down the stairs.