Nupur and Salil: Dreaming of a Future in Art

The first day of school can be chaotic. Nupur found herself in just that situation. She quickly packed her bag with whatever she could find and rushed down the stairs. The house help was in a flurry, and her worried mother was shouting last-minute instructions as she scrambled to get ready. The familiar yellow school bus arrived with a loud hiss, and in that moment, Nupur dashed out, her sandwich barely taking root in her mouth, her bag swinging wildly on one side and her lunchbox on the other. “Good morning!” she muttered to a couple of kids as she spotted a window seat.

The air-conditioned bus promised a small comfort as she leaned against the cool window and took a moment to breathe. Outside, the spring sky peeked through the hustle and bustle of Delhi. The warmth of summer was just around the corner. As they traveled through heavy traffic and onto a wide six-lane highway, she stared out at the world racing by — wheat fields, roaming livestock, and colourful hoardings advertising luxurious villas. Their new school was located in Uttar Pradesh, not too far from her home.

Nupur’s mind was a whirl of thoughts. “What’s your name?” a voice broke through her daydream.

“Nupur,” she replied, slightly shy but ready to introduce herself.

“Where do you stay?” came the next question.

“Lajpat Nagar,” she said without thinking twice.

Nupur was proud of her roots. The Gupta family had lived in Lajpat Nagar for generations, a mix of granduncles, grandaunts, and countless cousins adding to the lively chaos. Their mohalla was filled with dancing street dogs and roaming street cats, along with a pair of cows that often bellowed for food.

“I’m a Gupta,” she asserted, showcasing her sense of belonging. Guptas were a familiar name across Delhi, much like Goels, Agarwals, and Mittals. Their family belonged to the baniya community, historically known as shopkeepers and middle-class to the core. Nupur’s family owned a factory in Naraina, manufacturing mixies. When asked about it, she felt a twinge of pride. “We make mixies in Naraina,” she confessed.

Laughter erupted on the bus when they heard about Naraina. It was one of those typical Delhi places not visited by tourists. Just then, a girl named Anaiya sat next to her and smiled warmly. “My family has shops in Sadar Bazaar,” she said, leading to more giggles.

“What’s the mixie called?” Anaiya inquired.

“Toofan,” Nupur replied, smiling. It was a loud processor made to tackle Indian cooking ingredients with gusto.

“Does your family pay tax?” came a curious voice from the back. The question drew a burst of laughter because it stemmed from the kind of conversations baniya kids overheard at home.

As Nupur continued chatting, she discovered that Anaiya lived in Noida, just like her. Noida was where her father worked hard to earn enough to consider moving to a more upscale area in South Delhi, like Vasant Vihar. The thought made Nupur feel both excited and anxious; she loved the idea of a bigger house but also cherished the warmth of family living.

“We stay with our joint family,” Nupur explained. “My dad has a kothi with a large garden. It feels nice.” She saw the sparkle in Anaiya’s eyes as she spoke, reflecting their common dreams, some around collecting art or curating exhibitions, both of which would require a lot of effort in a world that didn’t always feel welcoming to aspiring artists.

“Your dad must be doing really well!” Anaiya replied. Nupur beamed with pride but also felt the weight of expectations.

“Dad’s a tech entrepreneur,” she said, smoothing out her skirt as if to steady herself against the new world she was stepping into. And then came the inevitable question, “And your mom?”

“She’s Christian,” Nupur replied, surprising her new friend.

“Interesting! So, what about you?”

Nupur pondered. “Am I Hindu?” she asked, recalling her mother’s ambiguous answer. “You decide when you grow up,” her mother often said. Nupur’s heart swelled with stories of her mother, Sarla Gupta, who grew up in Bombay, filling her life with memories that felt like film scenes always playing in her mind.

In that moment, Nupur realized that the dreams of collecting art and curating exhibitions would require courage. She and Salil both wanted to dive into this creative world, but how to make a mark? In a society that often looked down upon unconventional paths, they would have to find allies and chase their dreams despite the odds.

In the end, it’s not just about belonging; it’s about going beyond the expected paths and embracing what makes you different.

Conclusion

The aspirations of Nupur and Salil shine a light on dreams that often seem out of reach yet remain deeply rooted in family, community, and individuality. While the world may not always be welcoming, with determination and love for art, they might just carve out a space for themselves.

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Original Text – https://scroll.in/article/1087660/fiction-salil-wants-to-collect-art-nupur-wants-to-be-a-curator-but-this-world-isnt-so-welcoming?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=public