Lift thodi khali hui but wo apni jagah se nahi hili. Mujhe signal mil raha tha.Hum 3rd floor pahoche. Wo seat pe baithi and main kuch time main coffee...leke uske samne akar baith gaya. Usne apne bare main bataya wo apni married life se khush nahi thi kyunki uska husband sharabi hai and lafdebaz. Maine bhi apne bare main bataya. Wo thodi sad lag rahi thi so maine uske hath par apne hath rakhe.Tabhi wo chock gayi but kuch kaha nahi balke smile de di.Fir usne mere hath pe hath rakhe kaha mujhe. ‘But why do you do it? I know it is art.’ ‘I paint because it is art,’ he persisted, ‘art is the most immediate way to become close to others. Every stroke of paint, tells you who the person was, or what they felt or what they knew, anything and everything about them.’ ‘You sound so sure,’ I though back to the forest, and it saddened me. Perhaps I never knew him, the one I loved. I had never seen his art, there had never been a stroke of colour on his cheek to see. There was nothing to see. . More

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