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Chapter 4 - Art Attack

Amidst much fanfare, (seniors booing) we took our first step into our F1 Architecture Class. A large spacious room furnished with desks and benches in the front and drafting tables at the back. A charcoal drawing depicting the various scenes at a Kathakali fest executed by the great artist Namboothiri adorned the back of the classroom. Pieces of art contributed by the previous batches adorned the walls. I stared with admiration not once realising that this was just a preview of what I too was expected to do in the coming days. Before I get into the details let me tell you facts that you need to be well aware about architecture before enrolling for the course unlike clueless moi

  1. U need to have some drawing chops – The last time someone complimented my drawing was when I was in LKG and had drawn an orange a circle coloured using an orange crayon). Another memory of an opposite nature was when I was in my 12 th grade, when I had sketched a frog for my bio lab; my sir had stared at the drawing for a whole 5 minutes (not in awe) and gasped, “it’s good that you labelled it, for I would have never known it was a frog. I would more like call it a lizard but one that’s yet to be discovered” 
  2. The aptitude test is outdated/inaccurate (please just throw it in the garbage already) – The aptitude test that qualified me to enrol for the course is perhaps a cruel joke. There is no way it can judge your aesthetic and observational skills. Don’t believe me, how do you think I wound up here? (Ok, reader I would be glad if you paid more attention)
  3. There are three kinds of people who get into architecture – 
    1. The really artistic – about 40 percent, they are the ones who can sketch you an apple and you may actually try eating it. Their ranks can be anywhere from very high to low 
    2. The ambitious and dedicated – about 40 percent again. These people had decided that architecture is their bread and butter from the day they were born. Most of them are progeny of a previous generation of architects. Their ranks can get them the best electronics and IT seat in the state yet they opt for architecture (Architecture for them is not an afterthough unlike me)
    3. The nowhere to go but what the heck and I haven’t a clue kind – the 20 percent. People like me who didn’t or couldn’t get into other branches. We laughed when we got into this acclaimed and wonderful course, little did we know the joke was on us.
So here I was waiting for the first hour to begin and enter Fine Arts Sir. He looked like a man in good humour (I realised later it had a lot to do with the special medicine he takes before class, something that rejuvenated the spirit – ok I’ll say it loud - Vaadka). He gave us white charts and asked us to draw anything that came into our mind. 

God, I certainly can’t draw an orange, ok maybe I’ll do the scenery that we studied in 5th grade. You know, the mountains, a river flowing from it. Houses on either side of the river. Sun setting in the distant horizon. Boats by the side of the river etc etc. 

Well, it was done quickly and I looked at it and thought “what a piece of crap”. My newly found friends, Susan and Reena came over and I being a tad embarrassed tried not to display my drawing by leaning onto the board, trying to cover the drawing with my upper body, but being the feisty  kind they shoved me away and got a look at it anyways. They couldn’t stop giggling but that didn’t hurt me. The real hurt would come as I began going around the class looking at the creations of my fellow classmates. Divya had sketched a tree and was now shading it like a professional artist, readying it to be put up for display at an art gallery. 

I felt pangs of jealousy, loneliness, helplessness, the victim of a great tragedy, why me why me? Everyone was an artist except me and to make matters worse they were now going around looking, admiring and commenting on each other’s creations. Imagine my agony. My eyes welled up, it was just my first day and I had already realised that man was I misfit for this course or what. The days to come were going to reinforce my discovery of the stark and unfortunate reality.

The fine arts class was still my favourite because I had a lot of free time to sit, daydream, loiter around because my absolute lack of skills allowed me to complete/discard my assignments in a matter of few minutes. In later classes we were taken outside to draw nature and its elements. The only natural element I could draw was the look of disapproval from my sir. He still was kind for when he saw my scenery he did not mock me, instead he was patient enough to show me how and whats of shading. I understood the theory but never could learn it. And for the record there was a brief déjà vu when he joked that I should have labelled the boat since he had honsestly mistaken it for a crumpled leaf.

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