"Is it 'Art for Art's sake' ?" : Unveiling the Enigma of Contemporary Art



It was a crazy winter morning. The spine-chilling winds gushed through the gaps in my window and penetrated my blanket giving me an Arctic blast! I sleepily put on my quilted overcoat and walked towards the window. As I bent to tighten the clamps, I glimpsed a vivid tapestry of colours. Like a whispered secret, the translucent window glass unveiled a gentle kaleidoscope of hues.

 



With eager anticipation, I unlatched the window, envisioning a captivating masterpiece awaiting my gaze. But, to my utter disappointment, it was a splash of paints in an unmannered fashion, which appeared like someone had thrown them on top of one another every day in extreme anger and distress. I came back to bed, with curiosity ringing in my head.

 


Image courtesy: bedneyimages on Freepik

 

I could not stop thinking about the creator of that “work” and felt the grief that person must have been undergoing. During the day, I made up my mind to talk to that person and make him/her feel better. I waited by the window to catch a glimpse of that person. The midday sun announced the arrival of noon; my impatience had started showing up. I had been restlessly walking along the window side until my watch threw a resonating sound – “Beep! You have completed 10000 steps” - my ideal upper limit for the day!! “This is it", I thought to myself and decided to quit looking out further. Though my fidgetiness seemed to loop, I diverted my attention to my other chores.

 The colours of the sky whispered their goodbyes; The Moon ascended the sky; The World stood in stillness.

Night had arrived, and I ended my day in discomfort.

All through the night, I wondered how best I could do my bit and lighten her up. I had a peculiar feeling that the individual in question was female. I dozed off.

 

.   .   .

 

The (next) morning greeted me with a gentle warmth. Filled with eager anticipation in meeting the creator, I arose to embrace the freshness of a new day. I opened the window. The canvas had vanished!

 

A multitude of thoughts flooded my mind. I rushed out in search of that coloured canvas and checked out every open trash. I enquired with every passerby if a person with a painting canvas was seen. I walked, covering the entire neighbourhood, hoping against hope. “It wouldn’t have been long since the canvas was disposed of”, I told myself. When I could walk no more, I stopped at the nearby café. I put my physical and emotional self to rest and looked up to ask God why he didn’t choose me to help that poor, sorrowful person.

 

Oh! What a shocker!! It was right there.

 

“This piece of Contemporary art is available for sale at our Art café for 10,000/- only”

 

 

.  .  .



                                    ** This is a work of fiction. No offence intended**



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