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Writer's pictureMs. Navya Raghu

THE BREAK THROUGH


The art room is silent. Ashna stops and tries to paint something and then stops again , an endless cycle which she has been in for the past month.


“I should just quit...” she silently mutters.

“.....I’m not that good anyways.” she continues while putting the paint brush down.


“Now where’s the spirit in that Ashna?” A voice speaks from behind her,a very familiar one.

Turning around she sees her best friend Ajay standing in the entrance of the door with a bright smile.



“Ajay...hey...” she wants to explain but is wordless.

“Do you really think you aren’t good?”He questioned her.

Yes she thinks.


“A hello would be a nice way to start a conversation.” she replies instead.

He chuckled and continued , “Don’t change the subject Ash.”

Her face dulls , “I have lost so many times.”

“Which is human.” He commented back.

“Still...how am I good if I lose so many times?”A sad expression on her face.


“Why are you only focusing on losing?” He asks, tone full of seriousness.

He isn't wrong, she thinks.


“You aren’t bad Ashna.” He finally said after what felt like forever.

Head in hands she contemplates if giving up her passion after losing a few times is worth it.


“Being in a slump is completely fine but you should keep going.”

A sense of clarity filled her up, Ajay was right , she should not give up. Giving up is not bad but giving up so easily for competitions which do not determine her art capabilities is not the correct path.


“You are right.” she finally replies, straightening herself.

“Don’t stress yourself out too much, okay? ”

He checks his phone and sighs with frustration.


“I need to go. Appa wants me back home for lunch.” He says while slowly getting up.

“Bye Ajay! See you in maths tuition.” she replies with her usual chirpiness.

Ajay waves goodbye , now once again she is all alone in the art room.


Turning around she sees the paint brush right where it was. Smiling slightly she picks it up gently, dipping it in the maroon red paint.

As she paints the last stroke in the quiet room she quietly mutters ,

“I hold the paintbrush for all my masterpieces and failures regardless and I

can’t drop that.”





Navya Raghu

9A


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