1991 Dec-16 is the date I was born. Well, I started to draw closer to this world as I started to grow up. As I became older, as other people I was just sticked to course studies of school which eventually sickened me. I wanted something that would define me, that would be part of my liberation. So, in quest of that, I tried many things. To just name, I also tried my hand in writing. But, I felt that it was not the world I belonged to. May be, I ought not to enter this world. When I started to play with colors two and half years back, I found my ultimate passion. I also used to get indulged in painting when I was a child but I did not know the fact that it was my inner feeling or singular passion . Times were passing by when I got fed up with this world. So-called studies, so-called world, everything was just not getting proper. I did not know why but I knew just that nothing was going right. After I recalled my past hobby i.e. painting, I got rid of all the worries and this materialistic world and at last to my own self. I could just drown myself to some worthwhile thing to me which may also turn worthless to others. Now, here I am, worshipping colors and masters of colors who have found a new way to find outlet to this world. I dunno what painting is and I also don't want to define it too. I am also completely devoid of the ideas that what other people think of me and my art work. Some people appreciate it and some people also express some feedbacks, but I cannot comprehend if its for the sake of formality or true review. I am just moron for some and I am unlike what others think of me. Everyday I step outside my room to get attached with the world but everyday I return being more far. I dunno if I have that quality which makes me feel that I cannot become closer to this world. After exhaustion, I come to room everyday and close the door. It takes a while to take the silence within the room. After that, I start to open the colors not knowing which one I will use in canvas or oil sheet. It feels as if colors are using me instead of me using them. I try to create the world that I have thought of, I have imagined of. Sometimes, I succeed and sometimes I don't. May be this is the way, I am progressing as an artist. I don't expect anything materialistic from this world now, I am already contented and fed up. I have not tried that hard to sell my painting, to say, I have not wandered hither and thither galleries and other workshop groups. May be this is one of the reasons I have not been able to market my arts financially. I don't consider the fact that getting the tag "SOLD" in my paintings will increase its essence, its artisty, its value. Every painting is like my old dreams. I know the time when I created it. I know the conflicted emotions that was going through in my head while I was coloring it. I remember the satisfaction I got with the last stroke I gave to the painting. I sometimes forget the materialistic identity of myself. With painting, I have created a virtual world of mine, a world no one can affect, no one can evade and no one can enter.
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