Painter

-I love you.

-Prove it (She said)

-Do you know about Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem?

-Your elite knowledge base is beyond both my purview of know-hows and my ability to comprehend them.

-To put it bluntly, it says that in a given system, there are facts which are true but cannot be proven to be so.

I remember this conversation from an evening 2 years back when we had just started dating. I am not very sure if I actually loved her at that point of time because let’s accept the fact – no one starts to love someone right at the beginning. It always starts with a crush, an infatuation, an expectation of what could later turn into love, but never love.

So today when I stand here at the edge of the lake amidst the snow-caped mountains, having hiked my way up to here for 5 kilometers, with the water in the lake visibly freezing, I can surely say that I did not love her then but definitely liked her from the core of my heart.

-So?

-So it means that despite the fact that I do love you, I can’t prove it.

-Does this Gödel’s Theorem also state somewhere that you can apply it anywhere and come out of uncomfortable situations?

-Now that I will have to check.

Gurudongmar Lake is what they call it, 17,000 feet above sea level in the district of North Sikkim. Himalayas have always fascinated me. When the ice-cold breeze glides along my face and the purest of air fills up my lungs, I feel nothing except pure bliss – a numbness, a calmness that transcends the shackles of human responsibilities and memories of sadness and instead paints up the mind with hope, with optimism, with mirth.

-You are boring. (She declares)

-Why be so rude?

-I’ve been asking you for the last two weeks to watch Mama Mia! with me and you’ve been dodging it ever since.

-But I’ve told you I don’t want to.

-Can’t you watch it for me?

-Never mind. Let’s go. Tomorrow. First show at Liberty.

-Thank you. (She hugs me)

I have been diagnosed with Stomach Cancer three months ago. They say that it’s a Stage II and has affected my lymph nodes quite distant from the inner stomach lining. The treatment has been initiated but even my doctor has acknowledged the fact that I should now spend more time with my family which is to say that I might cease to exist in a not-so-distant future. I do not regret dying so early (In fact, sometimes I get very excited about guessing who all will genuinely cry when I die. It makes you feel important in the small world that surrounds you). Also I do not mean to sound like a compulsive melancholic douche-bag so let me make it clear that I might also survive and that’s why the treatment. She doesn’t know about this but being the cinema lover she is, she has quoted multiple times from The Shawshank Redemption – ‘Hope is a good thing.’ So, I’ve also started to try believing the same. Hope is a good thing.

-That was one good movie. (She declares, again.)

-How?

-You won’t get it. You better stick to your animated Toy Stories.

-Okay Okay. By the way, most of the time I was watching you watch the movie. And whenever they showed a beach, your eyes somehow widened with a mild smile on your lips. Correct me if I am wrong.

-Haah. I love beaches. I adore beaches. I want to make love to beaches.

-That’s weird.

-No seriously. Picture this. You walk on the beach towards the sea and stop just beyond from where the tide returns. Now when the tide comes and washes your feet, what do you feel?

-Wet?

-Idiot. You feel as if the sea with all its age and experience and history and stories has showered upon your feet the summary of it all. To me personally, it fills up my head with extreme levels of mirth. And I am not even done yet. When the water from the tide recedes back into the sea carrying away the sand from beneath and along the edge of my feet, I feel at peace. I cannot express in words but let me still try – I feel as if the sea, my friend, is washing away my worries and replacing them with hope, with optimism.

During the first year of our relationship, I did not love her. I liked her, immensely. But did not love her. Does this fact make my feelings less pure? I love her now. It has been two years and I love her now.

-I didn’t know you loved beaches to such an extent.

-Do you also like them?

-I like them but not to the extent that you do. I am more of a Mountain person. What beaches do to you, mountains do to me.

-Oh! Now I get why you mostly paint Mountains. If I remember correctly, your room has three paintings of mountains.

-Yes.

-You are a good artist, by the way. I like your paintings.

Before I die, I want to prove certain things. I want to prove that I do not care about money and fame. I want to prove to my friends that I am not such a bad person after all. I want to prove to my ex-girlfriend that we were never meant to be together and it was no one’s fault. I want to prove to my parents that I have not failed them. I also want to prove her that I love her and care about her.
There is only a small group of boys on the farther side of the lake. I think I should now set up my canvas, paints, palette and brushes. Painting on the edge of this lake is something I have always dreamt of. I had once seen a photograph of this lake in a friend’s hostel room and I had decided then and there that, one day, I will come here and paint it.

The lake is half frozen. The water is clear. But let me first paint the sky for which I will need Cobalt Blue. Now, how would the water look like if instead of this lake, it were in the sea? There would be tides and foam. I will need Ivory White for the foam. Here it is. For the sand. For the sand I think Indian Yellow with a tinge of Ivory White will suffice. I will also need some Burnt Sienna to include the grainy effect in the sand. Now I need to include a girl in the picture. A girl in a long skirt raised by her delicate hands up till her knees, standing on the shore with her feet in the water. Receding water. And a beautiful smile on her face. Should I let her keep her hair in a Pony Tail or let it flow in the sea wind? I think the latter would be better.

—
One boy from the Group

-Guys, there is something wrong with that man over there.
-Why? What happened?
-He is painting a Girl on a Beach while looking at this lake.
—

Every artist has a masterpiece – one work that is above all the works of art he has ever created. To me, this girl on the beach that I painted standing on the edge of Gurudongmar Lake in North Sikkim amidst The Himalayas is my masterpiece. I wanted to prove not just to her but to me as well that I love her with all my heart. This is as far as I could have left the sea behind, given my financial constraints and still all this while when I was painting, the only thing that flashed before my eyes was the spark in her eyes when she talked about beaches and the only sound that entered my ear was

“I love beaches. I adore beaches. I want to make love to beaches.”

She doesn’t need to know the location of its completion. I will never tell her. Will you? Please don’t.

—
Afternote:
1. Some portions of this story originate from the enriching conversations I have had with few beautiful people. Thank You.