She was painting the morning. I walked up to her and sat by her side. It was a beautiful morning and she has made it look absolutely stunning on her canvas. But admiration is not what I was about to voice ;-)

“So, you again busy painting a picture that has no part for me? “ I asked her teasingly.

“Who says you not there? You are pretty much a part of this, why don’t you find yourself? “ She said those last few words looking right into my eyes with a wicked smile playing on her face.

I didn’t have a choice but to pick up the gauntlet. And frankly I enjoy such games :)

It was a painting of a day break, with wide expanse of the river with blue water seen from top of the cliff, sun just making its way in his usual splendour and sky looking fresh and beautiful in early daylight.

So where can I be in this painting?
And instantly I noticed the morning sun, yes that’s what this painting is about. That’s what every morning is about - the sun, the central figure and isn’t it what I am to her. So if am there in this painting, I can’t be anything but the sun.

“Easy it was” said I, pointing to the sun.

“You wish it was that easy, would you mind looking harder.” she said laughingly.

So, I looked harder this time. What could she have in her mind. Where could she have hid me here? The sky, oh how could I have not thought of it first. It has to be the sky. Sun sets but sky is always there, looking at you and there for you whenever you want to look upto it. So that’s what she thinks about me. I was feeling good.

“So, sky it is, rite !!!” I said smilingly

“Naaaah, you were sharper and smarter earlier. You are losing it. Try again.” Her tone had that naughty tinge to it. She knew I don’t like to be to be proved wrong and she could see that it’s her turn to have some easy fun at my visible discomfort.

River - can I be the river? Now I was not too sure. Is it the image of all encompassing expanse of the river which makes her think of me? Is it the unstoppable restlessness of river that reminds her of me? Is this what I am? The river - in depths of which she can drown herself so as not to be found by anyone else ?

“Is it the river?” For the first time, I was asking her rather than telling her.

She just nodded her head to indicate am wrong again.

Now, it was no more a game for me and neither was I enjoying it anymore.

“I know - must be these stones and pebbles. One of these must be me right. Guess, that’s the best I mean to you.” It was no more about the painting now. I myself could notice the irritation in my voice, there is no way she could have missed it.

“Nooooooo” she resisted the provocation.

I got up. I have had enough.

“So, have you given up?” she was in no mood to let me off the hook that easily.

“Rather, I guess, you have given up on me” sarcasm was dripping in my voice. I knew I started it this but then I have never been a good loser. I started to walk away from her.

“Did you notice the bird ?” she asked me from behind.

“Which bird?” I turned back and asked.

She showed it to me on the painting. For the first time I noticed a tiny bird on the left side of the painting, soaring up the sky.

“The sun, the sky, the river - they were just part of a setting – a pure and pristine setting for this bird to take to sky. But this painting was never about them, it was always about this bird. And, this bird is you - my dreams taking wings - my hopes soaring high. “

She finished but her eyes were still asking me if I have any unanswered questions left.

I walked up to her and whispered a sorry.
Now I knew, she was not just painting the morning.