The auctioneer’s hammer knocked the
worn podium and he yelled “Sold!” The
relief in the crowded room was palpable as buyers heaved a collective sigh of
relief. The agent who had won the bidding war against powerful investors wiped
his brow and made his way first to the desk for the preliminary formalities of
acquiring Lot 31: a painting titled simply “Portrait of a Mother”.
The
posthumous price of this particular artist’s works had more than quadrupled in
recent months, ever since some invisible corporate raider had started bidding ridiculously
high sums of money at auctions in important art sales the world over. Every
sale, concluded via telephone or in person by agents or representatives, was
reported breathlessly on Society pages and TV channels.
Today’s
lot was the crowning glory of the artist’s
oeuvre. The agent looked at the back of the vast gallery, he smiled at the
figure hunched in a wheel-chair. The two men exchanged satisfied smiles.
Later,
in the privacy of a room in the art gallery, he showed the painting to the old
man, whose hard-earned money had paid for this celebrated painting. Wordlessly,
the old man stared, then reached out and touched the frame gently! His cheeks
streaked with tears, the millionaire orphan stared at his mother whose charms
were laid bare on canvas. He whispered, “Without this place, I would never have
found you!” (230 words)
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