This is my first attempt at writing a sequel to someone else’s story. For the first part, please read Beginner’s Luck.

Aadhi sat on his favourite window seat in an empty bus on his way back home. He loved it when the wind hit his face. His thoughts went back to what happened that evening at the beach. For a minute he thought he might have become one of those wannabes.

He never had much interest in sketching initially in school. His mom was an arts graduate and she was a popular artist in their known circle. Her sketches had also appeared in magazines. Aadhi was always proud of his mother’s talent.

But the pride did not always top the charts; there were other emotions fighting for the limelight in his thoughts too. Disappointment with himself, that he will NEVER ever be able to be as great as his mom. You know, these skills generally skips a generation.

Once he had done a portrait for his friend of his friend’s mom as a favor. His friend hung it in his house, and it was appreciated by everyone who visited. A distant relative, his uncle wanted a reference of an artist and got Aadhi’s contact. It was Aadhi’s dad who picked the uncle’s call.

“Hi I am looking for an artist to draw my family photo into a sketch. I saw your son’s skills in my relatives place and got this number from them. Can I talk to him?”

“Aadhi has gone out to play cricket with his friends. I can suggest you something better though. Aadhi’s mom is great at sketches than him, she is a degree holder in arts. If you are interested, I can probably talk to her.”

“Sure sir, I would like to talk to her. I can relate as to where Aadhi got his genes from.”

He was reminded of the old man suggesting about art as a profession. He did consider it too. Back then… But he was scared that he would fail. Being the only son, his circle expected him to get a high-grosser job, go onsite, earn loads of money, get settled and do his parents proud. He felt did not have the strength to fight back.

And his fickle mind then remembered the old man again.

“True its your choice. But when you are gifted with two hands and if you are using only one what would people call you?”

“Its not about the picture dear. Its about how you enjoyed doing it. I saw your face when you do it. You were in a different world. You didnt do it for money or to impress me. You did it because you enjoyed it and there my dear son, art manifests.”

True, he loved doing this. He knew it was where his heart lay. He stopped at the stationery shop across the street to buy pencils before getting into his house…

– Until next, Vid 🙂