SOULMATE - Part One

She was dressed in a sari the first time I saw her. An emerald green silk draped neatly across her left shoulder, its scarf flowing gracefully behind her. She glided from room to room, champagne glass in hand, rosy lips spread wide into a smile, and short dark hair accentuating her bare back. My agent patted my shoulder and I lost her to the crowd. Several introductions, multitude of small talk, and many polite laughs later I walked to refresh my glass courted by a handsome young aspiring artist. My eyes scanned the room while making sure to nod and smile at appropriate comments and compliments.

My first big show a fabulous success, I allowed a skip or two as I slipped out of the gallery towards the restroom. A voice stopped me followed by a breathless greeting escaping rosy lips. Emerald green had been enamored with my artwork, impressed with the composition and technique and awed at the size of my canvases. She spoke perceptively of details unnoticed by even some of the masters present at the show. Melting in flattery and impressed with her depth, I inquired if she were an artist. She nodded and removed a hand from within the folds of her sari. In it she held a colorful postcard which she handed out to me. I took it, studied it and smiled back at her promising to be present. Half of the postcard featured an exquisite, elongated vase in vibrant earthy hues. The other half had a time and place, for a debut exhibition featuring pottery and other earthenware by an up and coming artist, Divya.

Back in my lonely apartment, city lights flashing intermittently through my windows, sirens blaring 40 stories below, I sat in darkness. Through closed eyelids I travelled back into the gallery walking from room to room. I did not see the massive paintings on the walls that were my babies. Nor did I notice the vivid hues or the striking slashes with contrasting paints. Most of the work sold that night which made my agent happy. Even in this state of dream my eyes sought emerald green, Divya. Something unexplained connected us, her manner of speaking or the way she carried herself with a straight back and head held high, or the fact she was a fellow artist.

A week later we met again, at her show. She looked as glamorous as our previous meeting, in midnight blue silk dress. A diamond shone from her nose, perhaps it was there before too I could not recall, matching her earrings. I walked through the exhibition fascinated by massiveness of her vases with their interesting structure, delightful shapes and unconventional forms. Earthy tones grounded the pots that stood tall and sturdy. After congratulating her on her success, I stood awkwardly, glass of sparkling water in hand. She smiled warmly, thanked me for coming and proceeded to introduce me to her agent and other acquaintances in her circle. After polite minutes, I started my farewell when she put a hand on my arm, leaned closer and asked if we could meet for coffee.

To Be Continued.....