Saturday, I had my friend Bilal send me a photo that I clicked in the college. This the painting I blogged about here, and is now hung in the hallway of Sheridan college. When I go to painting class next week, I will make it a point to ask why he decided to put up my painting when there were clearly a lot of other paintings, much superior in the quality of the rendering. Anyways, the photo, I then attached to an email and sent it to the person who inspired it, Pranav.
On Sunday, at 1:56 pm, Pranav sends a reply. Hmm.. that was really prompt. Pardon the caps, BUT JUST WHEN I DON'T EXPECT HIM TO READ AND RESPOND, HE DOES SO, IN RECORD TIME! I didn't even bother reading through it. Ah.. who am I kidding.. I did glance over it once. And like everything else he says, I don't bother to try to make sense of it. All I want is for him to hate me. And I am not going to bother responding to him. My life is awesome without him. Such that now I am looking for ways to never go back to India. Even if I did, I'd never meet him.
There. My rant is over. This was typed at 12:16 am on technically, 3rd of december. I am not going to publish it right away.. I'm going to 'put a pin in it' and let it hang. (You'll get that reference if you have seen Bolt)
Hmm.. coming back to this post, I should first tell you that I did ask the painting teacher about the painting. And he said he thought that painting fit the criteria of the assignment really well. And he had given the people who were putting up the display a couple different paintings and mine is the one that finally got put up. The other day, I was in the kitchen looking outside in the balcony, at my old suitcase that I painted and thought to myself.. hmm.. a rubik's cube is somehow a recurring theme in my artwork.
Also, more words for Pranav. I have now read his stupid email 3 times and have interpreted it in my own way and have a response I'd like to personally drop at him some day. It goes something like this.."Pranav, wake up and realize that I am not what your life is. I am a lost soul, a damaged good, a worthless piece of shit. Your real life is something great. How many times have I told you yo're right? well, You were right... about me. Think back to that conversation we had. And then well... stop saying things like you just said in that email."