“To God belongs the East and the West;” I said in Arabic like the late Enishte。
“But East is east and West is west;” said Black。
“An artist should never succumb to hubris of any kind;” said Butterfly; “he
should simply paint the way he sees fit rather than troubling over East or
West。”
“So very true;” I said to beloved Butterfly。 “Accept my kiss。”
I’d hardly taken two steps toward him when Black dutifully pounced upon
me。 In one hand I held my satchel containing my clothes and gold coins; and
under my other arm; the portfolio filled with pictures。 Taking care to protect
my belongings; I failed to protect myself。 I couldn’t prevent him from grabbing
the forearm of the hand that held the dagger。 But luck did not shine upon
him; either; he tripped slightly over a low worktable and momentarily lost his
balance。 Instead of taking control of my arm; he ended up hanging by it。
Kicking him with all my might and biting his fingers; I freed myself。 He
howled; fearing for his life。 Then; I stepped on the same hand; causing him
great pain。 Brandishing the dagger before the other two; I shouted:
“Halt!”
They stayed seated where they were。 I stuck the point of the dagger into one
of Black’s nostrils; the way Keykavus had done in the legend。 When it began to
bleed; bitter tears flowed from his imploring eyes。
“Now; tell me then;” I said; “shall I go blind?”
“According to legend; blood clots in the eyes of some and not in others。 If
Allah is pleased with your artistry; he’ll bestow His own magnificent blackness
upon you and take you under His care。 In that case; you shall behold not this
wretched world; but the exquisite vistas that He sees。 If He is displeased; you
shall continue to see the world the way you now do。”
“I shall practice genuine artistry in Hindustan;” I said。 “I’ve yet to make the
picture Allah will judge me by。”
“Don’t nourish the illusion over much that you’ll be able to escape
Frankish methods;” said Black。 “Did you know that Akbar Khan encourages all
433
his artists to sign their work? The Jesuit priests of Portugal long ago introduced
European painting and methods there。 They are everywhere now。”
“There’s always work for the artist who wants to remain pure; there’s
always a place to find shelter;” I said。
“Aye;” said Stork; “going blind and fleeing to nonexistent countries。”
“Why is it that you want to remain pure?” said Black。 “Stay here with us。”
“For the rest of your lives you’ll do nothing but emulate the Franks for the
sake of an individual style;” I said。 “But precisely because you emulate the
Franks you’ll never attain individual style。”