Page 111 - Musings 2022

towards her and yells back, with a smile this time, ‘You’re Welcome, Mrs Shanti. Take care!

And close the gate soon.’
She shrugged at the last sentence and quickly stepped inside, bolting the door immediately.

She flung onto the nearest couch, placed the parcel upon the table. It was from her husband.
His exact words before he left were, ‘You would hear from me at 8 pm. I promise!’

He had kept his words, Shanti realised, except she had misinterpreted some of it when she

prepared the meal for two, and placed the candles in the room. Candle light dinner sounded
perfect to relax a man with policial service where the word ‘fire’ is categorised with ‘gun fire’.

But, a parcel from her husband is present to attend her on Valentine’s eve instead of his body
and soul. She tears through the flap and inside lies a note which says, ‘Good evening darling!

My occupation is just one of the many noble, respected ones and some non-respected ones,

that keeps one away from their loved one. But I promise you, my love towards you increases
when my fingers have no hand to hold. Instead, a gun that I utilise to protect all men and

women celebrating their love on this eve. Regardless of dreadful timings of my job, I would
never fail to shower you with love. So kindly accept this gift.’

Inside lies a palette of oil paints of 15 shades, brushes of various sizes and a neatly drawn
outline of Shanti, Diler and a not yet conceived child on a medium sized canvas. She quickly

brings a jar of water, lays that canvas board on her stand and continues to paint the picture

until dawn. Completely engrossed in the artwork, and with a determination to surprise her
husband on his arrival. They are a mysteriously creative couple, with absence being the catalyst

for a deeper passion. Quite possible that the painting may remain a dream on the canvas. But
an artist always imagines and dreams. And so does she!

111