In primary school, we had a teacher who taught us drawing. In his eighties, he wore a white kurta-pajama, a white turban, and a white open beard. A gentle soul, he taught us how to draw basic shapes, use a ruler properly and draw still-life and landscapes.
Children didn’t take his class seriously. For them, it was a fun period, a time to talk, laugh, and throw paper planes at each other. To get us interested in drawing, he once told us a story that I still remember.
One of his students migrated to Canada, where he couldn’t find a job for months. A career counselor asked him what he can do. After thinking for a long time, he threw his hands in the air and said, “I can write my name in different ways.” He then showed the counselor the little calligraphy he learned in this drawing teacher’s class. Soon he was hired as a signboard writer.
It took me years to realize that, that humble man had instilled in me the love of drawing. I enjoyed illustrations so much that it became the reason that I chose biology for further studies. This passion lay dormant until a few years ago when I took a drawing class and had time of my life doing life drawing.
Recently I found a sketch a day challenge and got sucked in.
