The Portrait .. Which he drew

The Portrait he drew of me..

      I was sitting in the midst of the crowd.. Had no inkling of someone keeping an eye on me.. Yet I was into my own la la land.. It was a concert I was at.. and he was looking right through people at me.
Since it was a dance concert, nothing could hold me down from moving my hips and with those zig zag moves.
And he kept gazing.. in bits and pieces, through here and there. For a while, I felt as if some aura is touching me, attracting me to just move. Move a little. But I stood still relishing the dancers and various other artists. He was a painter I figured. He had brushes..color palettes...a painting board.. measurement rulers etc. in his side pockets. My vision was in the center at the beautiful ladies dancing when my friend shook me and uttered-

 "Latu, the guy right there keeps looking at you, I been noticing, he looks up, down, up,down.. and he continues doing that. What is he upto. Shall I go ask him?"

I replied - "Chod na (Leave it), must be some sort of a well-wisher or something, lets not get distracted because of him. Look at that belly dancer, OM EM GEE".

And she nudged, while staring at that man. He didn't even bother to react to what the public or people around him were concerned for. He stood focused. Concise. He didn't care as to what we were chattering about. An hour passed. He was onto the same deeds. Up, down, up, down.. now it was getting on my nerves. Because I had no sense as to what he had been doing. He was on my right side. I looked at him with a rage and curiosity at the same time in my vision. He looked back. He smiled. I uttered : "What the ... ". He had an expression on his face which conveyed not to move. Not to utter anything. I was in a fit of rage this time. I figured, that my friend wasn't deluding anymore.
The man was upto something. Something mischevious I analyzed. We kept looking back and forth at each other. It was astonishing that he hadn't moved from an hour. He was stationed at one place. One seat.

     A couple of hours passed, the concert was ongoing. With multiple dancers, sundry artists and singers presented their talent and work. They were appreciated for being flawless in whatever they do. The aura around the concert was positive. The vibes which held me because of something, because of someone.

    Finally, the concert got over. I went upto him, not requesting but indignantly interrogating him as to what he kept gazing at me for? He smirked. While I kept looking at his mushy looks, his golden beard which was seductive captivated my sight. His lips which were deep red in color and fleshy. His cozy skin which seemed a bliss to touch. His fragnance, his ambience.. everything was enchanting about that man. I felt as if I wouldn't be able to take my eyes off him. The beautiful male figure. I was mentally absent from the present concert even when I was physically there.

         He clasped me. I was intimidated. He then left me. He raised his hand towards me affirming : "Hey, I am Vance. And you?"

For a second I thought of not reacting to what he said, ultimately I did.. "Latika" !

He smirked AGAIN ! I was concerned about his stares at me.. So I ended up asking : "Umm, what have you been staring at me for from past 3 hours, without a move?"
The Man : "I am your well-wisher, wanna show you something".
Me : "Well-wisher? Yah okay ! Show me what?"

He grabbed his painting board from a side and slightly lifted the curtain from the Portrait. I was overwhelmed to see that the man had drawn my portrait from a distance. Well, he was a painter and was meant to be exemplary, but I analyzed it so deeply, that it seemed impeccable.

   I was startled to see his effortless painting.. It was plainly beautiful from every corner. I was speechless. I thanked him perhaps a million times when my stares met his.
All he concluded while leaving was - "I fell for your sincerity, your beauty. Also, every man who stares at you isn't the jerk. Grant him a chance, Grant him you.. I ll move on..Keep the gift and I will cherish your smile..."

   And then I woke up, feeling as if I had crushed my beloved. What would have happened if just a dream was that enthralling? I was in love allready and my 'dream' had been concluded.. Atleast his words were worth a kill. The portrait.. Fortunately the portrait he drew of me.. was something.. was a kill..

© Latika Sareen