Very Short Story 001 - My Life in the Art Gallery


I am at Tasveer Art Gallery in Mumbai. I come here often.
Most of the times, this particular room is empty.
Once in a while, there is an exhibition next door and some people randomly walk in, stare briefly and leave right away.

But I stand here, staring at the painting for hours. I see what others don’t.
 
I see dreams, laughter, ambition, aspiration, endless conversations, love, affection and silly cuteness. I see all that in the strokes of the paintings.

I see my daughter in there. Because I can’t see her otherwise.  Just because some rich kid decided to drive while he was drunk. Stupid Idiot.

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