"I know, sweetie. You look fabulous, by the way."
"Thanks, mum," said Kimaya, smiling.
"It's time. Get ready, Kim."
Kimaya nodded, uncertainly. Her mom gave her an encouraging smile, walking forward to welcome the audience. Soon, people were flooding in. Kimaya was proud of her mother. She was an outstanding artist, and had gained enormous success.
After half an hour, Mrs. Verma took her daughter's hand, and led her up a little stage.
"And now, everybody," announced Mrs. Verma, "I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Kimaya Verma. She is not a fan of painting, but trust me; she has magic in her hands. Now unveiling - her first artwork."
A worker brought in Kimaya's painting - she had made it just last night. It was a request - more of a challenge - from one of Mrs. Verma's friends. However amazing her mother was at art, Kimaya didn't like painting. She used to be a horrible artist when she was little, and had never tried it again. But last night, when her mother tried to show her how, Kimaya had come out with a masterpiece.
People clapped, and a magazine reporter asked Kimaya to say something. This was something Kimaya was not prepared for. She was still pretty much anti-social, and had no plans of giving a speech. But well, she had to. Her mom gave her a little push, asking her to speak just a few words, and then she'd take over. Mrs. Verma was completely aware of her daughter's fears, and protected her.
"Well... I... I'm not really an artist. In fact, I don't think I even knew how to hold a brush. I used to be a terrible artist when I was young, but when I tried now, it seemed interesting and amazing. Well, my mother is an amazing artist, and nothing is impossible, so here I am. Every credit of this painting goes to my mother; except that I'm the one who painted it." Kimaya added with a laugh. She stepped off the stage, and suddenly realized that though she had not said much, she was not the least shy, and had actually been able to a little funny on-stage.
Soon, the people were just looking around at the displays, some of them inquiring about purchasing them. Kimaya looked for her mother and found her talking to her friend and a stranger. She walked up to them.
"I told you, Clarisse. My daughter can paint if she wants. You saw the proof today," Kimaya heard her mother say.
"Yes Anisha. I'm sorry to have said that your daughter can't paint. Well, all these years, and not a single artwork from her. It was just a little... Hard to believe," said Mrs. Verma's friend, Clarisse.
"That's all right," said Mrs. Verma. "Kimaya can paint - she is just not interested. I don't want to force her to do something she doesn't love."
Kimaya glowed. She was glad she had such an understanding mom.
"Actually, a friend of mine had thought about this. You know, about Kimaya not being an artist? Aakash here is a big fan of yours. When he came to know that I know you personally, he asked me to tell him more about you, and when I told him about Kimaya, he started wondering why she had never painted. So I asked you," said Clarisse.
"Hello, Mrs. Verma," said Aakash, extending his hand. Kim's mom shook his hand politely. Aakash continued speaking. "I love your paintings. They are beautiful. You are extremely talented."
Kimaya's mother smiled. “Thank you, Mr. ---" Mrs. Verma wondered what his surname was.
"You can call me Aakash," he said, amicably. "It's Aakash Singh, by the way."
"Alright," said Mrs. Verma. "Thank you Aakash."
"And this is your daughter, I suppose?" Asked Aakash, looking at Kimaya.
"Yes," said Mrs. Verma, proudly.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Singh," said Kimaya.
"Good afternoon, Kimaya. It's a pleasure to meet you - you are a great artist," said Mike.
"Thank you. It is all because of my mother though."
"I am sure you are brilliant. What do you intend to do when you grow up, anyway?"
"Well, I'm not exactly sure," said Kimaya. But in her head, she thought, liar. Kimaya knew exactly what she wanted to become. Except that only Astrid knew about it. No one else.
Just then, a media person dragged Kimaya away to her painting to get a couple of photographs.
"Excuse me," she said to Aakash.
The journalist soon left her alone, and Kim stared at her painting, shocked that she could do it in just a few hours. She was glad that she made her mother proud.
"Nice work," said someone behind her. The voice was too familiar and too close for Kimaya's liking.
"What the heck are you doing here?" Asked Kimaya, without turning back. It was her old captor.
"It's an art show. Anyone can attend it, right?"
"Yes, but... What if someone sees us together?"
"You didn't even turn. Besides, no one can recognize me at the first glance."
"What?" Kimaya turned around.
Her captor's hair was dyed a medium brown, along with a pair of light brown lenses. The complexion of this person was already light, so, the new eye and hair color didn't look too striking. Kimaya couldn't help but gasp.
"Stop staring. Now who is giving us away?" Smirked her captor.
"Sorry!" Kimaya muttered, turning away.
Kimaya heard a chuckle, and then her captor walked away.
***
The Sun had fallen below the horizon by the time Kimaya and her mother reached home. Kimaya's mom went inside the kitchen to get something to eat, and came back with some snacks and juice.
"I'm proud of you Kimaya," said Mrs. Verma.
Kimaya glowed. "I just wish dad was here to see this," She replied. Kimaya's father was in the real estate business, and was most often out of town. She loved her dad a lot, and couldn't help but feel sad that he wasn't there at an important time in her life.
But in one way, she was glad too. The lesser the people, the lesser the chance of her getting caught. And the lesser the chance of them getting affected. Kimaya sighed. She wished she didn't have to be caught up in this mess. But there was no more any way out of this.
As she lay in bed that night, Kimaya wondered what to do next. After half an hour of thinking, she decided that all she could do was let things continue with their own pace. She couldn't think of a single idea; it was a miracle how she was able to think up a good idea in the coffee shop.
Kimaya had enjoyed at the show today. But she didn't have the least idea about a pair of eyes; the pair which had been following her everywhere - the pair with the cunning gleam.
Chapter 6
The weekend went by lazily. Kimaya's father came home Sunday night, and she was overjoyed. She was seeing her dad after two weeks. She went with the driver to receive her father from the airport. She saw her father come out from the terminal and a big smile spread across her face.
Mr. Verma gave his daughter a hug before they got into the car. They chatted for a little while about his work, and then about Kimaya's school and her Mysore trip. Mr. Verma was shocked to know that his little girl had actually been able to sky-dive.
"So you're not the little kid, scared of heights now; are you?" said Mr. Verma.
"Yes! I'm so happy I am not afraid of heights anymore. Awesome, isn't it?"
"Yeah, Kim."
They stayed silent for a few minutes, and then, Kimaya's father's smiling expression turned serious.
"Kimaya, it's high time you decide about what you want to do in future. You are already seventeen. And if you don't get serious from now on, it will be very tough for you later on. Admissions in India aren't that easy, you know."
"I know, dad. I..." Kimaya knew what to say, but she had no idea how she was going to say it.
"Actually," continued her dad, "I've been thinking about this. How about engineering?"
Kimaya stared at her father, taken aback. Engineering?
"What? You are good at Math. I'm sure you can clear the entrance exam. And then, it gives you a steady life for years." Said Mr. Verma.
"But dad... I'm just not interested!"
"Then what? Fashion design? Medicine?"
"Not medi
cine! I don't like biology. Fashion design; I don't know."
"Fashion design will get you nowhere. Becoming an artist is better. You'll at least have your mom to help you out."
"Dad!"
"Yes?"
Kimaya sighed. She wondered how on earth she could tell her dad what she really wanted. She decided to be soft yet direct.
"Dad... I want to be a writer."
Her dad burst out laughing.
"Writer? You've got to be kidding me! It is extremely unstable. Besides, even if it is stable, it will give you a tiny income."
"But dad, that's what my interest lies in."
"You cannot live your life based on interests always."
Kimaya stayed quiet. She knew it was no use arguing. She had been thinking about a course in journalism and literature, but she realized that her father would probably never let her do it. She was quite sure though, that her mother would support her in this. She just wished she wasn't wrong.
They reached home. Kimaya was too upset, and went to her room immediately, denying dinner. Her mother stared at her, wondering what was wrong.
She decided to ask her husband about this.
"Honey, what's wrong with Kim? She isn't even having dinner."
"Nothing," said Mr. Verma coolly. "She has just gone out of her senses."
Mrs. Verma raised a brow at this.
"She wants to become a writer - did you know about that?" replied Mr. Verma.
"Oh my God, no I didn't!"
"I thought so. I refused. I want a secure future for my daughter; I don't want her to become a writer, starving on the streets."
"But if she really wants to, then why not?" asked Mrs. Verma.
"No, Anisha. It will not do at all. This is my decision and it is final."
Mrs. Verma shot a glare at her husband. "Then what do you want Kim to become?" She asked.
"I was thinking of engineering."
"Be careful with your decisions, hon. It's your daughter's life you are playing with. I would still---"
"It's my final word." Mr. Verma cut off his wife.
Mrs. Verma groaned, and they spent the rest of the dinner time in silence.
An hour later, when Mrs. Verma went to check on her daughter, she found Kimaya curled up on her bed, hugging a pillow. She seemed to be asleep, but her face was tear-stained.
"Kim..." whispered Mrs. Verma sadly, gently stroking her daughter's hair.
"Mom?" Kimaya was not into deep sleep yet.
"Baby, I'm so sorry...”
"For what?"
"Your dad told me that you want to become a writer. But he is too against it. He won't even let me talk about it. I just can't do anything about it."
Kimaya let out a deep sigh. She had sort of expected this. She held her tears back, and got something from her cupboard, the same thing which she'd shown to Astrid the other day. It was a book, a novel which she was writing. She handed it to her mother, who looked at it blankly.
"Open it," said Kimaya. "It's what I've been doing from a long time. It's almost complete. I'll finish it within a few days and give it to you. Either dad gets convinced, or you throw it away."
Mrs. Verma opened the book. The first page was a summary of Kimaya's novel. It was a historical romance.
In the ancient empire of Lynessa, there lived a beautiful princess named Andromeda. Her father, the emperor, arranged her wedding with Ryder, son of the Lord of the first noble clan of Lynessa - the Phelps. The marriage is fixed at birth, and Andromeda is told about this when she turns thirteen. She accepts her fate readily. But what will happen when Andromeda realizes that the Phelps are plotting against her father? Is Ryder the bad guy too? Or will he help the princess out?
Kimaya's mother turned the page. The second page was a dedication.
"To mom and dad - the best parents on Earth", it stated. Mrs. Verma looked at it sadly, wishing she could do something to help her daughter out. But she doubted it. She looked at her daughter.
"That's a great plot, Kim. I'm proud of you. I will try my best to make you a writer, just don't throw this away."
"No mom. I will throw it away if dad doesn't agree. Because it's no use keeping it then."
Mrs. Verma sighed. She got up, and said good night. She went out of the room, and Kimaya soon fell asleep, wondering if she'd ever have her dreams come true.
Downstairs, Mrs. Verma picked up a fight with her husband.
"It's her dream!" she said.
"Do you want her to die out of starvation, Anisha?"
"But what if she's successful? She will make us proud!"
"Kimaya is our only child. I want her to live a settled life."
"Oh, for God's sake Nikhil! I'm an artist. Being an artist doesn't make you settled either! Then why did you marry me?"
"Because you were talented. You were pretty successful by the time I met you."
"Kimaya is talented too!"
"Where is the proof? She has not written a single story in her life."
"Here," said Mrs. Verma, handing her husband, Nikhil Verma, the book Kimaya had given her. "That is the proof. If you don't like it, Kimaya wants you to throw it away."
Mr. Verma opened the book and read the summary. He let out a snort. "Are you serious, Anisha? This is such a cliché! You call this talent?"
"Shut up, Nikhil. I know historical romances all sound the same, but the difference lies in the climax. And this is a very interesting one! You have to support your daughter in this."
"Well, I don't think so. You can just throw it away. Tell Kimaya that she can think about writing once she has an engineering degree in her hands," said Mr. Verma, and walked away to the bedroom.
Kimaya's mother sat with her daughter's book in her hands for a little while, pondering over a thought she had in her mind. Then, she walked off with a satisfied smile on her face. Her husband might have made her final decision; but she had different plans for her daughter.
***
The next day, Kimaya left for school quietly. Her mother didn't say anything either. She needed to wait till Kimaya's father left to implement her plan. Mr. Verma was leaving again that afternoon, before Kimaya returned from her school. He would be gone for more than a week, so no problem for Mrs. Verma.
Kimaya came home in a bad mood that day. Her mother beamed at her, doing her best to hold back the reality. Kimaya was shocked to see her mother's happy face.
"Did... Did dad agree?" She asked, anxiously.
"Yes, sweetie!"
"You are joking right?"
"Why would I?"
Kimaya screamed and took her mother into a bear hug. Kimaya relished the moment, unaware of the reality. She was just too happy that her dream will finally come true - with her parents' agreement. When she finally let go her mother, she asked, "Was that for real?"
"Yes, Kim."
Kimaya squealed again. Her mother suddenly stepped back, worried that her daughter might just choke her with another bear hug. Kimaya burst out laughing. All the sadness that she had carried with her disappeared within moments.
Her mother opened a drawer and pulled out Kimaya's incomplete book. She handed it back to Kim, and said, "Now you better complete this book within a week and give it to me."
"Oh mom, sure! Forget a week, you'll get it within three days!"
Kimaya's mother smiled.
"Well, are you hungry at all?" asked Mrs. Verma.
"My excitement kind of increased my appetite," replied Kim, with a wink.
Mrs. Verma laughed and disappeared into the kitchen to get Kimaya something to eat. Kimaya went to her room to change. Soon, after having a quick snack, and finishing a bit of school work, Kim grabbed her unfinished book and got started on completing it, which she did till she was too sleepy.
The next two days went by with school and studies, and mainly, writing. Mrs. Verma kept enquiring about Kimaya's book now and then. After two days, Kimaya handed over her draft to her mother, exhausted, yet satisfied. Kimaya tried many a ti
mes to call her father, and thank him for his acceptance; but Mrs. Verma diverted all the calls.
Mrs. Verma
Kimaya's excitement brought me a bitter sweet happiness. I felt extremely glad to see her so overjoyed. But it was disheartening to think that her father wouldn't be a part of her joy; at least not now. Kimaya doesn't know that, of course. I can't let her talk to her dad right now. If she finds out that it's all a lie, it would be a disaster.
Thank God that Kimaya handed over her draft so soon. Now, I can carry on with my plan with ease. My friend will make this all easy enough. I told Kim that I'll do everything to make her dream come true; and I really will. I will get her book published.
I had to lie to Kimaya to make her finish her novel. Had I told her that her dad didn't agree, she would have never written another line. Her book would never be completed, and I couldn't let that happen. My daughter has a lot of talent; and I'm going to bring out her true potential.
It was only Wednesday when Kimaya handed over her sloppy copy. I didn't have much time, so I did a night out and read her book through. By the time I finished the book, it was already 3:30 AM. But the time had just flown away. Kim's words had me so engrossed; I was not the least sleepy. Her lines reflected everything - happiness and sadness, pain and joy, love and hate. She had this way of reaching out to the reader's heart; she could make us laugh, or she could make us cry. I had tears in my eyes when I finished the book. I'd never been so proud of my daughter.
The next morning, I called up my friend who was the head of a publishing company. That was the best thing about being an artist - you had contacts everywhere. I had designed covers for a few books for this publishing company, and the head had been very pleased. I was sure that he would help me. When I told them that my daughter was a budding author and I wanted to get her book published, he was more than happy to help me out. I forwarded Kimaya's draft to him within a little time, and he took it up as a first case. By the weekend, I received the confirmation that my daughter's book was good enough to get published, but they needed some input and editing from her.
It was a Sunday the next day, and I decided to break the news to Kimaya in the morning itself. I entered her room quietly, and shook her awake. It was quite early, and Kim groaned, asking for a little more sleep.
"Oh come on, Kim. You're going to love this. Wake up!" I said.
"What could be possibly better than a little extra sleep on a Sunday morning..." She muttered, sleepily.