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“A step and all is sky and God.” Sri Aurobindo |
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The Painter Ishita Sharma This story was written by one of the participants during the 10-day experiential Indian psychology workshop held at the Indian Psychology Insitute.
She was like anyone of us, trying to paint the sky on her little canvas, while looking out of her tiny, closed glass window. She thought that the vastness of the sky was as much as she could see from her window. She kept the window closed, so as to protect her from the gusts of the wind, which she felt might disturb her setting. The sun was too hot and the moon too gloomy for her. She kept drawing happily for years, until one day a storm broke her window glass. The whole room was turned upside down. Her brushes got scattered, her paints fell down and were splashed all over, and her canvas… Her painting was in a mess, all spoiled. She was devastated and in pain. “How could God be so cruel? Didn’t he know I was totally into this, doing it so perfectly for years. Why had it to happen to me of all people?” She told herself, “Never again will I look to the sky and try painting it.” This went on for some time. One day, by chance, she happened to look out of her broken window and felt the breeze. To her surprise she felt that the sky was much more beautiful than her paintings had been. She started looking at it more openly. Then she went up to the terrace to find out how it would look from there. It was much wider than ever before. That inspired her further. She thought, “If the sky would look already splendid from a terrace in between city buildings, how would it feel looking at it from an open field!” She ran out. When she reached the open field she lay on the grass and looked high up in the skies. She experienced the vast, oceanic expanse… Its endless patterns and its endless depths… The birds, the sun and the moon and the stars, all were speaking to her. Later at home she picked up a brush again and started a new painting… How else could she have known this vast sky but for that storm that broke her tiny, closed glass window.
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“Later at home she picked up a brush again and started a new painting... How else could she have known this vast sky but for that storm that broke her tiny, closed glass window.”
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MORE OF BY THE WAY |
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