|courtesy : Google Images|
It is colorful everywhere around; blue in the sky and the sea, yellow in the sunlight, brown in the soil and tree trunks, green in the leaves and grass. Different shades of race in the humans, animals and birds. And when it rained everything unhide its hidden colors. The seven colors of the Sun, wet brown of the mud, bathed trees and trunks, and dark clouds. Only human’s safe guards their original color until it rains in their eyes.
A peculiar arrangement has been made to show case the art, to whom is something mystical. We call it a day but it is the light pointed on the art to show the color with increased brightness. We call it a twilight but it is the view of the picture in fading light; the changing red, orange and gray light from the sky. We call it a night but it is an arrangement to show the painting in the white light of the moon. We call it a no moon day but it to illustrate that the art looks beautiful even when there is no light.
O! My fellow beings, I know not the child who painted the picture. All I know is; to see the art you must look at it as a child that painted. To appreciate you need not find the artist but find the art. O! My dear humans, the art need not be corrected nor needs any changes, just do not add any color or erase any color from the painting. The child that painted needs no appreciation nor praise, just appreciate the art and live with it in beatitude. The extreme goal given for anything in the art is to stay alive until the child rethinks to modify and not to modify itself. The more we modify the art the more we are provoking the child to repaint the picture. And we do not know what that child will do. Do not grow up and think that it is a child’s painting so that we could change. Sometimes he may white wash it, understand my fellow beings he is a child; you can predict very less about him.
O! My beloved beings that talk about unconditional love, if you think what you do to you children is unconditional love then laugh at yourself, it is all selfishness. It is not what we show to our little children is unconditional love it is what they show to us. We corrupt them with materials and money then unconditional remains but love disappears.
If you still think that the greater child that painted our planet could be mesmerized with the offering and money then close your eyes and light to the laughter of that child. He does not know what you are giving. He painted tress in brown and green but we are offering him the same in the form of printed papers. What will he do with it? Whatever given to us is by him and whatever we are trying to give him is his. O! My poor fellows, listen he is a child digging the mud and taking the diamond as offering to him will not please him. No not grow up as an adult and bargain with him to he might seem to listen and act up to you but, for he is just a child, he might have a different plan once you settle down. Be a child alike him, talk and play with him as a child then you would require nothing but the love of him. This painting is already a modern art, what we see is just a minuscule part of his work. Do not try and repaint.