Art and Artist

The bright red lips puckered up in disbelief. The twinkling brown eyes sparkled over the reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She closed her fingers into a fist and pumped it in the air. Yes! Cupid had struck again, but at her directions.

Her wrinkled face creased into more wrinkles as she broke into her signature broad grin.

That made it 511. She had assiduously introduced 511 couples who held hands, locked their eyes, and exchanged their hearts. Most went on to get tied up in nuptials. Few eloped. And very few, marginal went through a breakup… They were the irresponsible, social climbers, or too selfishly independent.

Well Marcella just focused on what she could do and managed it with a flourish.

Her records went back to her college days. She had long black hair then not the wispy silver she sported now. Her twinkling brown eyes, smiling luscious lips, spring in her step and love in her heart. And schemes in her mind. She was out to do good to all of mankind. So, when her friend Veronica (no, not of Archie fame) came to her one fine evening completely besotted with Fred, she couldn’t just sit low and watch, could she. She put on the cape of Superman, er Superwoman and got to work.

She found Fred and engaged him in conversation about the principles of Thermodynamics. But Fred was a microbiologist and was soon out of depth. He took the first excuse he could come up with and ran from there. He tripped over a long leg in a red shoe and went flying down the corridor. A gentle lilting voice apologizing profusely, helped him up and picked up his belongings too. Then gently she led him to the café down the street to have some coffee. As he peered into the heart shaped face, he drowned into the green eyes and  lost his heart.

That was No.1. Then requests from friends started coming in to help nurture their blooms of romance. It wasn’t easy, but she was diligent and persistent. If the twain would not meet, she would create circumstances to force them to meet, exchange a few words, spend some time together on projects they abhorred, thus making the principle of ‘my enemy’s enemy is my friend’. The success rate was slowly going up.

Acquaintances then started reaching out. In fact, she had so much to plan, draft, research, execute that she needed an assistant to book appointments, take notes and generally play girl Friday! As usually happens when one becomes famous, and the success rate is nearly 100% even strangers come up to you and seek advice. She felt bad but she had to turn down a few offers.

That’s when Principles of Economics hit her. People would pay her for her ‘help’. There weren’t any awards for Entrepreneurs, or Women innovators or Innovator of the year, back then else she would have swept them all.  

She could now afford a car, a bright cherry Studebaker Coupe. That’s how the scarlet, crimson, and  vermilions came into her life. One fine day she was talking to a prospective client, when…

“Hello Marcella!” a soft yet deep voice floated into her ear. As she turned to look at the owner of such temptation, she met the gaze of a pair of dark, ebony pupils, staring admiringly at her.

 “Hello! I don’t think we have met.”

“No, we haven’t! Because you never come to class. You never come to my class, so I have come to you.”

“Ok! So, are you seeking an appointment? You will have to speak to my secretary Rhonda! I cant give you time from my previous appointments.”

“Oh really? And what are these appointments about, pray tell me?” the authority that had slowly crept into the voice set her antennae zinging, as did the surreptitious slinking away of her client.

From the corner of the eye, she watched Veronica, waving desperately. As she turned to question her, the girl came forward and greeted the man with a “Good morning, Professor Buttons!”

Marcella knew she was in a soup, a thick soup actually. Professor Buttons was the Head of the Department of Psychology and known to be a stickler for all things horrible. Attendance, rules, grades, submissions, projects, assignments, and the like. Not even in the wildest of her dreams had she thought she would be caught red handed and marched to the Dean. Well, she had worked it out to a fine art, and had developed the skills of an artist. It got her not only name and fame but bread and butter too. She was not going to give it up so easily.

“Young lady I am waiting for an explanation,” he said tapping his foot.

“Oh Sir, it’s just that my friends cant do without my help. I have been insisting that they shouldn’t distract my attention from academics, but they beg and plead and I cant refuse them!”

“I am sorry Sir, I will attend all my lectures, I assure you. Charity can wait.”

“Lets go meet the Dean and then you can explain.”

Meekly she made her way with him to the Dean’s office.

Her friends waited with bated breath around the corner and what seemed like a lifetime, she came out, and went straight for her lecture.

Though her nascent business came down from its meteoric rise with a resounding thud, she had drawn first blood.

As soon as she was a graduate, she started her matchmaking business. And her knowledge of the likes and dislikes of young men and women, the surge in hormones, and a persisting attitude in human psyche, ensured it was roaring.

Often people wondered about her own single status.

She had lost her heart once, but the person who she would have loved to date only laughed at her and her business. It was none other than Professor Buttons, who was cute as a button.

It took all her positive thinking skills, to get over the Dean and the professor laughing till the tears rolled down their cheeks, when she told them about her business. They acknowledged she was quite an artist, a con artist. And every time she manipulated Cupid, she felt she dealt them a blow. It was her art after all!