Arumugam

There is a story behind this picture, as well as the painting within this picture.

Last summer a man from a colony, Arumugam, had fallen off of his bike a couple days before I had arrived in India. As a volunteer I heard very little about his condition and what was going on with him until my second to last day in India. I was supposed to be with the tutoring group that day, but one of the coordinators felt very strongly that I should join her in taking a check to the hospital so that this man could get his much-needed surgery underway. When I got to the hospital, the sight of him at the end of an isolated hall way, no sheets on his bed, and un bathed for 3 weeks broke my heart and all I could do was sit there and hold his hand as this sweet man writhed in agonizing pain. The nurse walked in a few moments later and informed me that he was very ill and was in need of a stat blood transfusion, but they would not offer him blood because he was "dirty" aka a "leper". So at that moment I held out my arm and said, "take mine."

This past Monday, I was sick and unable to participate in the day's work. My group was on construction and had the opportunity to go to the Bindu School of Art. When they returned, my heart began to race and I felt very strongly I needed to ask to see Kenzie's paintings. So I went into her room and asked to see them. She prefaced by saying she needed to tell me about one of them because it was so different. She told me when she first saw this painting she knew there was a story behind it, and wondered if it was a self-portrait or something like it. As she pulled the painting out of the envelope and I saw the brittle gray looking man painted in the middle, I began to cry. I knew who it was, it was Arumugam. It was painted in honor and in memory of him after his passing, by his dear friend and fellow artist. We got to go back to the same colony yesterday. Kenzie brought the painting back with her and invited me to be in the picture of her with the artist and the painting he created in honor of our friend, Arumugam.

I find it amazing how even though I exchanged very little words with Arumugam as I sat holding his hand at the head of his bed, that somehow, a whole year later, I am still connected to him. He is dear to me, and I do believe that he is near to me even though I cannot see his face.