A few strokes

She tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear. His was too dense she realized. It will need elaborate looking into she made a mental note. Short cropped hair, black and dense, yet falling in layers sort of. It would need intricate sketching, she frowned. Her frantic hands continued tracing long lines against the canvas.

He was not aware of her eyes on him nor that he was being sketched. He looked impatiently at the door once again. His frown lines said that he did not like people who did not value time. Rolling up his sleeve, he straightened his dial. The watch caught her eye too. The way it held itself against his wrist, it seemed to have a life of its own. As if his pulse reverberated within it too.  As if his essence had seeped through his skin and was trapped in its steel band now. She should highlight the watch too, she said to herself. She started re-lining the outlines now.

He straightened himself again realizing that he was getting comfortable in his seat in the restaurant. She could not help but chuckle under her breath, he doesn't want to crumple his work clothes. She was not surprised. The stern look on his face kind of said it already. Even the waiter around his table seemed a bit too conscious. She turned around wildly, a sudden fear gripping her that there might be someone watching her sketch this man in front of her. The tables behind her were empty. It was a Monday afternoon, not the ideal time for the place to have its "happy hours". She sighed in relief. People might find it very weird and someone might even complain. What they don't realize is, there are times when its your mind responding automatically to something that appeals to one with unparalleled vibes. The moment she had taken her seat and she had seen the man, she knew that all she wants now was to sketch him.

He was fiddling with his phone now, his leg shaking in a slow rhythm. Must be humming some song, she deduced. She wished that she could hear the song he was humming, it would have kind of made it easier for her to complete the sketch. Much more easier.

She concentrated on the lights now. He was sitting against a glass pane, the afternoon sun was casting shadows on his right. But her instinct told her to scatter shadows throughout the canvas, as if it was not a brightly lit afternoon, but a cold and misty day.

It was almost done, she brushed her fingers against some areas to blur the pencil lines, to add the effect and the shadows. Too lost in the moment, she did not realize that his eyes were on her now. She looked up and she knew exactly how to finish the sketch. He looked down instantly, getting up in a swift motion, he acknowledged the waiter and left.

She set the canvas down, the one she was sketching in and put up a fresh one and started sketching his eyes. Just his eyes. It was him. His eyes were him. She wrote the following lines after she finished with his eyes.

A drop of rain or the sea

Satiating or engulfing to me?

   

We could have had it all..

We were walking along the beach, I sang out loud, with Aparajita tightly clasping her tiny hand around mine as she looked up in wonder. I looked down still continuing with the song, couldn't help but smile a bit when I saw my daughter, her olive skin glistening under the warm sun, her big black eyes giving off earnestness I could not imagine in a five year old, her lips trying to mouth some of the lyrics, she was somewhat a bit breathless from both walking and trying to sing at the same time.

"Do you want to sit down?", I said with the voice that I reserved only for her.

I could see the rapid change in her expressions from disappointment to relief. Aparajita nodded her head in affirmation, but something in her eyes said that she did want to walk a bit more, yet she sat down pulling me beside her. The waves crashed a few inches away from us, so close, that shift of sand could be felt. She clutched my arm now. I wrapped one arm around her, pulling her closer as we sat there staring at the horizon. I could feel her warmth seeping through me, her baby scent still hasn't worn off I realized yet again, I almost felt calmness course through me.

"Are you angry?", came a muffled voice. 

I smiled a bit, the question was imminent, I knew it. She looked up now, her eyes uncertain now. God! She is so expressive, I thought. I kissed her on both of her cheeks and said "Not at all,cupcake. Why do you think I am?". She was delighted, she loved being called cupcake, it was her favorite dessert. Her body eased a bit against me. "I could not walk for long, I had promised the last time that I would try to walk the entire length of the beach", she said looking down, halting between words, in a voice that could melt my heart. 

I picked her up now placed her on my lap, placing  my chin on her head, I spoke into her hair. "I can never be angry with you honey". She snuggled against me, humming the tune of the song I was singing a while back flawlessly. I felt my eyes moisten with pride, could not help myself but grip her tightly.

"Mamma?", she said cutting off the tune abruptly. I knew that voice of hers. A bit of curiosity with a tinge bit of fear too. She did want to ask something which she thinks she is not supposed to. "Yes?", I said trying my best to make her feel comfortable, because knowing her, it doesn't take her long to curb into that shell of her's.

"When I told my friends about our holiday, they all made fun of me and called me a liar. Who will carry your luggage, and Who will talk to the hotel people, they had joked, You don't even have a Daddy!", her voice cracked with the last word. She turned around now and flung her arms around my neck. I patted her back trying to control tears from straining my own face. I have to be strong, for her.

I have always known that it would be very difficult for Aparajita to grow up without a father. But at times as these I find myself at a loss of words over what to say to her that can console her little heart. I finally spoke up, "Come on Darling, you know they were just trying to pull your leg, Mamma can do all those stuff, right?"

She looked up, her eyes red now, I felt as if someone has just stabbed my heart. I wiped off her cheeks and kissed them again. She managed a smile, "Yes you can", she hugged me again, this time, tighter. I ran my fingers through her hair. How can I explain things to her, that I had no control over all this, that I could not keep that person in our lives when he himself did not want to, when he himself chose to walk away, that I never knew what went wrong. Maybe one day she will understand, maybe one day she will..