It sent a tangible truth through my body when I dived deeper into the painting "Gaddiwala".   I took a sip from my tea cup; all that painting reflected the truth with insights of his village.  He had responsibilities on his head that he was carrying.   All he did was to balance the art with dexterity in the portrait but he reflected the insights of his village, his initial space of struggle.   The roof of his hut, his only cow, mud wheel and a tree nearby: he had come to the city leaving all his pleasures to carry the responsibility of her mother and her wife or sister.   The portrait reflected responsibility.   I observed I do nothing besides taking sips from tea cups.

The drabness in the portrait was evident but vermilion background reminded me a hope, an uncertain hope.  Gaddiwala’s body has carried all the memories of his village when he moved to the city in search of the work.  I exalted of Gaddiwala when I found out a weird worn face of two women: who are they?  Perhaps, his mother and his wife or his sister!   But all it mattered eventually that they are worried about him.   He might have left his village for the city to carry heavy weights for others, but these women carved on Gaddiwala’s body, Gaddiwala’s memory depicted uncertainness: did he eat, did he sleep well, is he happy?

I stared at the empty cup with dregs of tea leaves settled at the bottom.   I closed my eyes and saw a difference: I do not sleep well because of heavy caffeine intake.   I do not eat well because of drinks!   I am not happy because I don’t want to be.  I searched for my wrist watch and left my home in the search of the Gaddiwala in a hope that we could exchange lives:  I would give my joy and he would take mine!

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