
The dawn of June 7th, 2025, was like any other for me, a fervent believer in the rejuvenating power of a morning walk. The Bangalore air, still crisp with the lingering coolness of pre-monsoon, invigorated me as I set off from Whitefield, my usual route taking me towards Marathahalli. I was in my rhythm, the gentle thud of my sneakers against the pavement a familiar lullaby.
Suddenly, a peculiar sight brought me to a halt. A man, disheveled but with an almost ethereal glow on his face, stood rooted beside a dustbin. He was mumbling to himself, a soft smile playing on his lips, one hand gently pressed against his chest as if cradling a newfound heartbeat. I, a creature of habit, found my curiosity piqued. What could possibly evoke such a profound, almost joyful, reaction from a man staring into a dustbin at dawn?
I approached cautiously, drawn by the magnetic pull of the man’s serene demeanor. Peeking into the dustbin, I saw it – a painting. It seemed ordinary at first glance, a simple rendering on a piece of discarded paper. Yet, as my gaze lingered, I noticed the artist’s focus: a series of undulating waves.
I stood there for what felt like an eternity, captivated. Five, then ten minutes passed, and a strange sensation began to wash over me. I felt as if the painted waves were reaching out, gently brushing against my face. Intrigued, I closed my eyes, reaching out to touch the artwork. The moment my fingers made contact, an indescribable feeling coursed through me. It was as if the waves were alive, whispering secrets.
“One wave also is inside you,” they seemed to murmur, “make oceans of happiness and spread them in this world. Make them happy who are having pain in their life.”
My eyes fluttered open, brimming with a newfound understanding. I turned to the man, eager to share the profound revelation. “I felt it,” I began, “those waves, they told me something incredible.”
The man’s serene smile faltered, replaced by a torrent of tears. “I am the creator of this painting,” he sobbed, his voice cracking with emotion. “I have no money, my family struggles for food every day. Yesterday, I was alone, desolate. But this wave, this feeling, it was inside me, demanding to be seen. So I drew it, on this paper.”
I listened, a knot forming in my stomach. The man’s raw honesty, his vulnerability, painted a stark contrast to the quiet joy I had witnessed moments earlier. The artwork, discarded in a dustbin, was not merely a painting; it was a testament to the human spirit’s resilience, a desperate cry for hope born from the depths of despair.
In that fleeting moment, amidst the urban chaos of Bangalore, I learned a profound lesson. It was in the crucible of pain, in the quiet solitude of suffering, that one often discovers their true qualities, their hidden talents. The man’s painting was a beacon, a reminder that even in the darkest corners, creativity and hope can bloom.
I didn’t hesitate. I bought the painting, a small sum that meant the world to the artist. I took it home and hung it in my bedroom, a constant reminder of that extraordinary morning. Every day, as I rise, I glance at the waves, allowing their silent wisdom to wash over me before I step out to face the world, carrying a little more compassion, a little more understanding, and the silent promise to spread oceans of happiness wherever I go.
हर दिन की तरह ही आज भी में,, निमिष परिहार सुबह morning walk पर निकला था तभी रास्ते में मेरी नजर इक आदमी पर पड़ी वो लगातार कूड़ेदान की ओर देखा जा रहा था ,, मन ही मन कुछ बड़ बड़ाये जा रहा था चेहरे पर मीठी सी हंसी थी ओर दिल को सहलाये जा रहा था जैसे आज पहली बार उसके दिल ने धड़कना शुरू किया हो..मुझसे रहा नहीं गया में रूका ओर वहाँ गया तो पाया उस कचरे में इक पेंटिंग थी मैंने भी उस पेंटिंग की तरफ देखना शुरु कर दिया देखने में तो बहुत ही मामूली सी थी पर जब मैंने भी एक टक उसे देखना शुरु किया तो पाया कि कलाकार ने उस पेंटिंग में कुछ लहरें बनाई हुई थी.. अचानक मुझे महसूस हुआ कि जैसे वो लहरे मेरे चेहरे को छू रही हो तब मैंने अपनी आंखे बंद कर ली ओर उस पेंटिंग को अपने हाथों से छुआ और उन लहरों को महसूस किया एक अलग सा एहसास था जैसे मेरे अंदर कोई लहर चल रही हो और बस यह कह रही हो बस यही वक्त है जब तू अपने अंदर की लहर को बढ़ाकर दुनिया में खुशियों की सुनामी ला सकता है तभी मैंने अपनी आंखें खोली और अपने अंदर के ऐहसास को उस आदमी को बताना सुरू कर दिया उस आदमी ने अचानक रोना सुरू कर दिया और बोला- मैंने ही इस पेंटिंग को बनाया है और मेरे पास मेरी फैमिली का पेट भरने के लिए पैसे नहीं है कल जब मैं तन्हा था मेरे पास कोई तरीका नहीं था अपनी फैमिली का पेट भरने के लिए और मेरे अंदर जो लहर उमड़ रही थी मैंने वहीं लहर इस चलचित्र में उतार दी तब मुझे समझ आया कि अक्सर दर्द में ही इंसान अपने अंदर का हुनर पहचान पाता है मैंने तुरंत उस पेंटिंग को खरीद लिया ओर वह जाकर अपने बेडरुम में लगा दी आज भी मैं जब सुबह उठता हूं तो इस पेंटिंग को महसूस करता हूं और अपने काम पर निकल जाता हूँ.





