Painting was his new hobby. He wanted to paint everything.
As he sipped the hot tea, he surveyed the surroundings from his terrace for a good subject to paint. His attention went to the evening sky, the crimson that was setting in.... The artist in him recognized this as a good picture.
So he started off on his canvas, sketching out the sky and the dipping sun. His Abbu was observing him from behind. As he started to colour them, he struggled. Every second the shades of crimson changed. From golden to dark Crimson, and finally a colour that he found difficult to describe or mix on his palette.
Understanding his situation, his Abbu patted him, "Son, its life, it doesn't stay still for you, like an ever-ticking watch".
As he sipped the hot tea, he surveyed the surroundings from his terrace for a good subject to paint. His attention went to the evening sky, the crimson that was setting in.... The artist in him recognized this as a good picture.
So he started off on his canvas, sketching out the sky and the dipping sun. His Abbu was observing him from behind. As he started to colour them, he struggled. Every second the shades of crimson changed. From golden to dark Crimson, and finally a colour that he found difficult to describe or mix on his palette.
Understanding his situation, his Abbu patted him, "Son, its life, it doesn't stay still for you, like an ever-ticking watch".
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