Strange painting
Rajan was a young artist who loved painting since childhood. His small studio was filled with beautiful paintings of landscapes, animals, and people. He spent hours every day in his studio, working with his brushes, mixing colors, and bringing his ideas to life on the canvas. Rajan was always eager to try new styles of painting, but recently, he felt a strange emptiness. It seemed like something was missing in his work, but he couldn’t figure out what.
One day, Rajan went to a local art shop to look for inspiration. As he walked through rows of canvases and paints, his eyes fell on an old, dusty painting in a corner. It was a portrait of a young girl, but there was something strange about it. Her face looked very sad, and her eyes seemed to be waiting for someone, almost as if she were alive. Rajan couldn’t take his eyes off the painting; it felt as though it was trying to tell a story, something mysterious.
The shopkeeper noticed Rajan staring at the painting and came over. “Ah, that one,” he said with a strange smile. “It’s been here for years. No one wants to buy it.”
“Why not?” Rajan asked.
The shopkeeper whispered, “People say the girl in the painting looks like a ghost.”
Rajan chuckled. He didn’t believe in ghosts or haunted paintings. He thought it might just be a clever story to make the painting more interesting. “I’ll take it,” he said. He paid for the painting and brought it home to his studio.
Rajan hung the painting on his wall, hoping it would inspire him. But every time he looked at it, the girl’s sad, haunting eyes gave him a strange feeling. Sometimes, it felt as if the girl wanted to say something. He didn’t know who had painted it or why.
That night, Rajan stayed late in his studio working on a painting. Occasionally, his gaze drifted to the mysterious portrait. He smiled to himself, feeling as though the painting brought his work to life.
But soon, he began to feel uneasy, as if he wasn’t alone. He felt someone watching him. When he looked at the girl in the painting, her eyes seemed to follow him, and her face looked even sadder than before. Shaking his head, Rajan tried to focus on his work.
At midnight, Rajan decided to call it a day. As he turned to leave, he glanced at the painting. To his shock, the girl’s face had changed. She was smiling—a faint, eerie smile that hadn’t been there before, as if she were saying goodnight.
Confused, Rajan rubbed his eyes. He thought he must be tired. Just as he was about to close the door, he heard a faint whisper.
“Paint me again,” the voice said.
Startled, Rajan turned around, his eyes wide with fear. He stepped back into the studio, but it was empty. Telling himself it was just his imagination, he left the studio quickly.
The next day, Rajan couldn’t stop thinking about the whisper. When he entered the studio, he looked at the painting. The girl’s face was as sad as before, but Rajan felt certain she was trying to tell him something.
He picked up his brush and started painting again. But this time, instead of painting animals or landscapes, he began painting a story—the girl’s story. He painted a lonely, frightened girl standing in a dark forest. Then he added a small house hidden among the trees in the distance. As he worked, Rajan felt a deep connection to the girl, as if she were guiding his hand.
The painting began to come alive. The girl in the dark forest looked lost, but she was searching for her way home. As the painting neared completion, the girl seemed to find her path. Rajan noticed that the sadness in her eyes started to fade.
Finally, after several days, Rajan finished the painting. The girl had found her way out of the forest. She stood in a beautiful meadow filled with flowers, near her home. Her face looked peaceful and happy. Rajan stepped back to admire his work, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
But when he turned to compare it with the original painting on the wall, he froze. The frame was empty. The sad girl’s painting was gone. Rajan looked around the studio, confused and wondering if it was some kind of magic. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Was it real, or just a dream?” he whispered.
When he opened his eyes, he saw her—the real girl. She stood nearby, alive, with the same face and sad eyes he had seen in the painting.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rajan couldn’t move or speak. The girl smiled—a warm, genuine smile like the one in his finished painting.
“You set me free,” she said. “I was trapped in that painting for years, waiting for someone to complete my story. Now I’m free, and I’m at peace.”
“Who are you?” Rajan finally managed to ask, his voice trembling.
“I was an artist, just like you,” she replied. “I poured my heart and soul into my work. But one day, I created a painting with a story I couldn’t finish. I became ill and passed away, leaving it incomplete. My soul was trapped, waiting for someone to finish what I had started. You did that for me.”
Before Rajan could say anything more, she vanished. The studio was empty again. Rajan stood there in silence, overwhelmed by what had just happened.
He looked at his new painting—the girl, now free and smiling in a meadow of flowers. Rajan smiled too. The haunting was over. The painting was no longer a home for a trapped soul, but a beautiful piece of art, full of life and inspiration for other artists.