Photo Challenge #175
MKA Photography
The hammer struck the teak table thrice. The auctioneer looked
around. The deal was
done and over. Everyone rushed to congratulate Ajanta over
wine and cheese post the
auction.
Walking through the architectural wonder, the colonnade
looked down in appreciation of
the artiste whose brush strokes spanned
continents. The citizen of the world she was a
generous donor to women’s
causes.
The renowned Auction House, Christie’s Indian agent Anita‘s nagging
doubt was coming,
“Ajanta, the loose ends of thread of the lady’s fettered
hands gather in odd shapes to
form a pattern?".
“Nothing escapes your keen eyes, Anita” acknowledging her
finding.
“While the world focused its attention on the light, the
clothes of the model, the spartan
enclosure, my mind shifted its focus. May I
have the pleasure of knowing it?”
She spoke with a pause of gravitas. “It is my signature. That’s
all I can tell you”, the tone
in her voice suggesting that she be left alone. Discerning
her caprice the agent politely
took leave.
Left alone with her thoughts gathering a storm in her mind
she recalled her days of yore.
She had nervously stepped into Nari Niketan with a veil
covering most of her face having
estranged from her family. The brick and
mortar walls not only provided her refuge and
solace from her fears but they
shaped her sagging confidence. She was eternally indebted
to the Institution. Now
it was payback time for her. The proceeds of the sale of the
painting “Bonded
Slavery” would go to refurbish the crumbling edifice of the building.
She corralled her thoughts and dabbed loose powder on her face while tidying every
strand
on her head.
Ajanta's monochrome art may reflect her real life but her real
life had to be kept under a
generous coat of colourful paint, sequestered from public
and fourth estate.
Written for :MindLove Misery's Menagerie Photo Challenge #175
Nari Niketan - Women's Hostel
