‘Saint’s Face’

That famous portrait painter had a strange dream. He saw a saint. The saint had a pacified serene look. He was soft-spoken. What did the saint tell the painter?

“My dear painter,

Please look at my face. Can you draw my face in its real form? If you do that, you will be rewarded well.”

Saying so, the saint disappeared.

The painter got up. He wanted to visualise the saint’s face over and over again. What a calm and serene the face evinced? How can a painter capture the real luster of that noble profile to the brim? The painter spared no time contemplating on the dream. He wanted to, in the first instance, sketch an outline of the saint’s face. But he failed repeatedly. What did he do?

He walked out of his studio.

He walked as far as the closest park which he loved so much. It was a calm morning. At the main gate, the painter saw a young man. He came closer to him. Then he saw the saint’s face. What a strange coincidence? The painter stood near the young man, who smiled. Wasn’t this the same smile which the saint cast in his dream?

“Are you staying close by?”

The painter inquired from the young man. The young man smiled in return.

“Yes, quite close by.”

“Can you do me a favour, then?”

“What is it you need?”

“I am a portrait artist.”

“Yes I know that.”

“I need to draw your face.”

“Of course you may.”

“So can you come over with me to my studio?”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

The painter was happy. He felt his wishes are going to be fulfilled. For several hours, the young man posed before the artist. The painter was silently working on his portrait. He was dedicated to his work. He was indefatigable. But he fed the young man with fruit drink and other meals.

The painter finished his job in two days.

He turned his eyes from one angel to another. He was satisfied. The painter handed the young man a handsome amount of money. But the young man was not ready to accept any money.

“I cannot possibly accept it. I did not do anything other than sitting here all day around.”

“Doesn’t matter! Accept a little at least.”

The young man walked out of the studio. The artiste was aching to see him again, but could never make it. Perhaps he had left the area, thought the painter. Where must he have gone? The painter submitted his work under the title ‘Saint’s Face’ to a state-sponsored painting exhibition.

The judged opined that it was a beautiful work with several layers of meaning and visions. The painter gradually could get into stardom. He was awarded the title ‘Great Painter of the Country.’ He was also felicitated and given a sizeable amount of money to exist. The painter tried to repay his thanks by giving some amount to his young friend. But he could not meet the young man.

“I am going to meet him somehow,” the painter was determined. He walked out of the studio and travelled all over the country. But he felt miserable on not finding the character he wanted to see. Several years passed by. The painter drew several other profiles. But he was not satisfied.

“All these are mere human faces,” he thought.

At least 20 years passed. The painter was walking by a public pub, when he sighted an old man. He looked familiar. The painter wanted to paint his face too. The old man had withered with wrinkles on the temples and forehead.

“Can I draw your face?”

There was a smile between puckered lips - the old man had a toothless mouth.

“Oh yes please,” came the reply.

“Let’s go to the studio.”

The painter let the old man sit in a cosy chair. When he was about to complete the painting, the old man spoke.

“When you draw me 25 years ago,” the old man said in a feeble voice, “you called it ‘saint’. What are you going to call it this time?”

The painter stood still for a moment, surprised.

“You are that saint I saw in my dream?”

“Yes I am.”

“What happened? You are that young man I met at the park?”

“Yes, it was I.”

“What happened to you?”

“Like everyone else, I too had to face life’s ups and downs. I was not relaxed. Then suddenly I thought I must come back.”

“So here you are!”