Silent Whispers

Epilogue

– Five Years Later –

"Someone once said to me that artists need to look soulful, so that their audience can connect with them instantly. At the age of twenty-four, this was the deepest advice I had ever received. It had moved me so much that I started sporting a beard, truly believing that I completely looked the part of a soulful artist. My best friend, who fortunately is eating her husband's head right now in London and not mine, told me I looked nothing less than a chimpanzee."

The crowd laughed.

"So I shaved off the beard and adopted the quintessential angry-young-man look, thinking that mystery at least will intrigue people enough to view my art. My other best friend thought I was suffering from an early mid-life crisis and even booked me an appointment with Delhi's best psychiatrist."

There were more chuckles from the listening audience.

"Frustrated and mostly desperate, I even tried living as a nomad on the streets, hoping that I can convey the toils of the lesser fortunate more authentically than any other painter before me. Thankfully, my brother intervened and after a good bashing from my baby sister, I stopped being a method artist."

The laughter continued for another round.

"I won't bore you much longer with endless stories of my struggle to reach here, and trust me they are endless, but suffice to say, I have finally learned what it takes. And it's not the looks, attitude or technique. No, in the end, what matters is your heart, because a painting straight from the heart doesn't need luck, connections or advertising. It can shine even without the sun. And thankfully, by this point in my life, I had enough sense to marry the girl who taught me that."

Cheers followed that statement. Akash grinned at the crowd in front of him, and caught a blushing Payal's eye before saying with finality, "Of course, I don't deserve the entire credit for tonight. There are a bucket load of people I have to thank for making this dream come true, but they all know who they are, so I won't tire you with all the names. But I do want to thank all of you for taking the time to come here and see my work. I hope it's much more impressive than my speech."

And with that, Akash stepped off the dais, where numerous photographers instantly surrounded him, all asking for a pose.

Arnav smiled proudly, as a wave of nostalgia hit him. He could still remember bringing home his brother and sister from the hospital the day they were born as if it was only yesterday. And today, they were both completely grown up. While one was finally presenting his first ever painting collection, the other was well on her way to be the city's biggest interior designer and not mention, having a baby of her own.

Should his parents be there, he knew they would have been extremely proud.

"Sir?"

Arnav blinked, and saw a waiter offer him a tray of drinks. Picking up two glasses of champagne, he scanned the crowd, searching for the pair of almond eyes that to date never seized to enchant him. He found her standing in a corner, arguing furiously with someone on the phone.

"-no, Ayan, I don't care what they say! We are sending the shipment tomorrow and if I get a single complaint about the material from the client, then god save you and your team!"

Arnav shook his head in exasperation and gently tapped his wife on the shoulder. Khushi looked up, surprised, and signaled him to wait for a minute. He obliged without complaint, wishing he could make the lines on her forehead disappear.

"I don't want to hear any more excuses," she snapped angrily. "I didn't hire you to tell me about problems. I hired you to fix them. So, fix the issue now or come collect your termination letter tomorrow."