Black and white

Once upon a time, there was a white canvas who fell in love with a paintbrush. Out of many canvases, the paintbrush chose this particular one. Things went on well and their love was blooming. The canvas felt lonely without the brush and the brush without the canvas.

One fine day, after visiting an artist's house, the brush thought that the canvas is too blank, too white. The brush told the canvas 'my love, why not add some color to your life? I would very much like to see a colorful canvas'. The canvas agreed to it (albeit against its own will), for, it loved the brush dearly. It went on and allowed itself to be painted with some colors, and it thought, 'may be, i do look a bit better with the colors'. The Brush was also quite content with the now changed canvas. However, it did not match the elegance of the artist's paintings, so the brush was left unsatisfied. Days went by and the canvas got used to the colors. The brush had kept its feeling of not being satisfied to itself, but after a visit to another artist's place, slowly it started expressing itself . The canvas was initially reluctant to get any more colors, but because it loved the brush so much, it agreed to get more colors on itself. And so, it did. This went on for a while. Every once in a while, the brush would ask the canvas to get more color and the canvas would eventually agree and get itself colored.

There came a point when the canvas started looking black with all the mixture of colors. And then the brush told the canvas 'my dear, you have too much color on you. Have you thought about getting some white paint? It may add a different hue and you will look less dark and more colorful.' The canvas reluctantly agreed to this too as it did not want to lose its loved one. But, this time, the result was that even after getting a white paint, the canvas still remained dark. All the colors in all these time had turned the canvas black and there was no way to be white again. No matter how much he tried, the most it could do is to appear slightly grey.

The brush was retrospecting one day and it thought, 'Does the canvas look better with the colors? or was it much better when it was white? Did the colors make the canvas lose its own self? These colors probably disfigured the canvas for life. May be the canvas was better without me and i without the canvas'.

And so the brush moved on, eventually found a new canvas. And the canvas was left black and no brush could make it white again.