Shine like a moon
In the quiet village of Nalpur, nestled between misty mountains and lush green fields, lived a potter named Ariv. He was a man of few words, known more for his craftsmanship than his voice. From dawn till dusk, he sat by his wheel, molding clay with hands that spoke of patience and precision. His pots were not just vessels; they carried stories, dreams, and a part of his soul.
Despite his dedication, Ariv’s life was a struggle. People in the village preferred cheap, factory-made goods, dismissing his handmade pottery as old-fashioned. His earnings were meager, but he never complained. He believed that mastery was a journey, not a destination. Every morning, he whispered to himself, "Live purely. Be quiet. Do your work with mastery."
One day, a traveler named Revathi arrived in Nalpur. She was a scholar, seeking inspiration for her book on lost crafts. As she wandered through the village, she stumbled upon Ariv’s humble workshop. The sight of him, lost in his art, molding clay with such devotion, left her mesmerized. She watched silently as he finished a pot, his hands steady, his mind focused.
"Your work is exquisite," she finally spoke, breaking the silence.
Ariv looked up, his eyes reflecting both humility and curiosity. "Thank you, but few appreciate it. People prefer what is easy and cheap."
Revathi smiled. "True artistry is often hidden behind the clouds, just like the moon. But when the time is right, it will shine."
Inspired by Ariv’s work, Revathi decided to showcase his pottery in a nearby city. She arranged an exhibition, inviting artists, collectors, and enthusiasts. The moment they saw his craftsmanship, they were spellbound. Orders poured in, and Ariv's name spread far and wide.
Back in Nalpur, Ariv remained unchanged. He still sat by his wheel, molding clay, perfecting his art. Wealth and recognition did not sway him. His heart remained pure, his work his meditation. As he looked at the full moon one night, he smiled, knowing that like the moon, he had emerged from behind the clouds and shone in his own quiet way.
Despite his dedication, Ariv’s life was a struggle. People in the village preferred cheap, factory-made goods, dismissing his handmade pottery as old-fashioned. His earnings were meager, but he never complained. He believed that mastery was a journey, not a destination. Every morning, he whispered to himself, "Live purely. Be quiet. Do your work with mastery."
One day, a traveler named Revathi arrived in Nalpur. She was a scholar, seeking inspiration for her book on lost crafts. As she wandered through the village, she stumbled upon Ariv’s humble workshop. The sight of him, lost in his art, molding clay with such devotion, left her mesmerized. She watched silently as he finished a pot, his hands steady, his mind focused.
"Your work is exquisite," she finally spoke, breaking the silence.
Ariv looked up, his eyes reflecting both humility and curiosity. "Thank you, but few appreciate it. People prefer what is easy and cheap."
Revathi smiled. "True artistry is often hidden behind the clouds, just like the moon. But when the time is right, it will shine."
Inspired by Ariv’s work, Revathi decided to showcase his pottery in a nearby city. She arranged an exhibition, inviting artists, collectors, and enthusiasts. The moment they saw his craftsmanship, they were spellbound. Orders poured in, and Ariv's name spread far and wide.
Back in Nalpur, Ariv remained unchanged. He still sat by his wheel, molding clay, perfecting his art. Wealth and recognition did not sway him. His heart remained pure, his work his meditation. As he looked at the full moon one night, he smiled, knowing that like the moon, he had emerged from behind the clouds and shone in his own quiet way.
.png)
Comments
Post a Comment