The Winner

"Good work my child! You make me proud. I am sure each one of us will be proud of you one day." Those words said by Sister Delina some 18 years ago were still fresh in Naman's ears. Their echoing sound made him smile like a seventh grader.He kept flipping through the pages of his Art file. Each page had bundles of memories, some clear like crystals while some faded like the dry leaves that lied scattered on the ground in autumn. Some sketches were even signed by him with unmistakable professionalism that reminded him of how eager he was to grow up!

Naman grew up, like everyone does, into a teenager and then an adult and now of 30 something, as he sat there holding that file in his hands, his mind experienced tides of uncontrollable thoughts.

Somewhere admist his thoughts,he recalled his friend Sultan who was always his admirer, although he too, was equally good at artwork like him. Brilliant were those days when Naman and Sultan participated in Drawing Competitions together. The winner was always one of them and irrespective of who it was, they used the prize money for buying new cricket equipment. There was no envy in the name of competition and it kept their bond of friendship growing unless they parted their ways for the sake of pursuing promising careers.

Still flipping through the pages, Naman stopped unbelievingly. "Genius!" was all he could say. "How could have I been so good?! How the hell am I no longer the same?", questions hovered over his mind like the houseflies surround a ball of jaggery left to its fate.

As Naman walked up to catch a gasp of fresh air in the balcony, still holding his file, he could feel the pump in his feet. He could feel a wave of energy rush through his head. This was similar to the one he used to feel while making all those sketches. It wasn't a deja-vu. He was actually reliving those moments, those feelings when he believed he was a champ,a winner and so was he!

"What do I think of myself now? I am.. I am...probably a struggler.. things don't happen for me right away.If there is anything about me, it cannot avoid complications. Yes! that's me, that's what Naman is today! And everybody knows it. But does everyone really know of it or they have just got used to seeing me like that?" Naman struggled hard from within seeking answers while gazing at the sinking Sun.

The breezy November sky whispered magical spells. That sight shiver of winters that always made Naman feel good was right there and he, undoubtedly, was giving in to the charisma. Allowing the breeze to find its way through his face, he said to himself.. " You last a winner only as long as your thought..!"