Chapter 5 | Mona Lisa of Bones and Flesh (with audio)

Portrait in Words | Mumtaz Hussain

The Alphabet of the Image | Mumtaz Hussain’s short stories with paintings

Anarkali’s little wooden cabin was adjacent to the fruit pudding shop, which faced the street and housed a small wooden table between two benches. For privacy, a curtain covered the entrance for customers seeking an escape from the bustling street.

Colleges and universities surround Anarkali. On one side, there lies the old campus of Punjab University, and on the other, schools of Government, Law, Oriental Studies, and Art, as well as the King Edward Medical College. In addition to these institutions, there are numerous smaller education centers for computers, language, arts, and crafts. That is why Lahore is known as the city of colleges. Anarkali serves as the food market for all of these institutions. During lunchtime, the street becomes packed to capacity with crowds gathered around rice and lentil carts for their afternoon lunch. Tania passed through the massive crowds to have lunch at the fruit pudding shop. She placed her order at the counter and sat in the little cabin. 

Soon after, a boy came in, placed her fruit salad on the table, and asked, “Anything else missed? Would you like juice or a milkshake?” “What is kind of juice you have?” she asked. The boy named a few. Even though pomegranate juice was the most costly, Tania ordered it since it had beneficial ingredients. She chose only that so as not to worry about her budget since the cost of pomegranate juice was equal to that of a packed lunch.

After some time, the boy returned and sat the glass of juice on the table. As he left, he partially closed the curtain, leaving a quarter view open, through which Tania could glimpse the passersby. Some were portly, some were short, and others were tall. She then glanced at the most beautiful woman. Tania stretched her neck out of the curtain like a crane to get a better look but could not. In one large gulp, she finished her juice instead of her usual of pleasantly sipping. The entire glass passed through the esophagus, flooding this main digestive tube of the body. Then it moved through the vital organs – kidney, liver, and intestines – and reached the bladder to be stored.

Hurriedly, she counted her change, paid the shopkeeper, and left the shop immediately in quest of this beautiful woman. Tania imagined the woman through the construction of her body. Cells sit beside other cells making organs and building tissue to make a complete human machine, allowing it to move about, 

With rapid strides, Tania walked past the beautiful lady and stopped near a street vendor to gaze upon her while pretending to shop for shawls. She observed the anatomical structure of her body with great curiosity. Its design consisted of 206 bones of various sizes, each connected with others, allowing each step of her walk. She perceived the division of the bones, but the style, gait, and arrogant posture, coupled with how she moved her head and smiled, were beyond Tania’s comprehension. 

When Tania raised her arm to imitate the beautiful girl’s, she glanced at her watch and suddenly got worried. She was now late for her gross anatomy class. Taking shortcuts from the Neela Gunmbat and through the main gate of King Edward Medical College, she arrived at the class on time. After the lecture, there was a special lab for the dissection of cadavers. She looked upon them and wondered, “How and when did muscles spread throughout the human structure?” The body was divided into two halves by the spine, starting from the skull and connecting to the rib cage, which protects the precious inner organs. 

During the lecture, Tania stared at the instructor and imagined gas-filled intestines wrapped around his body like the trunk of a tree coiled by ivy. The more she thought about it, the more she saw every person as a leather- jar covered by a map of veins and arteries. Every human being seemed to be a mannequin-like plastic sculpture moved by some mysterious chemical process within the body. She became obsessively curious about her movements. As she stretched her hand to pick up a glass of water, she wondered how this action was accomplished, which neurons communicate the message from the brain to the hand. She asked how her fingers opened, took hold of the glass firmly, and lifted it. What combination of chemicals, nerves, tissues, and flesh worked together to create movement? 

Upon seeing a good-looking man, her mind would imagine strange things such as how long and short tubes, filled with countless sperm, travel into a woman during a sexual act. How they fuse with a woman’s egg, converting it into a living, breathing child. 

Such a complicated occurrence began to vex Tania. And if anyone used a medical term while talking with her, she would become ensnared again in this mental trap. Brooding over human deceit always brought her aesthetic death. Whenever absorbed by such thoughts, she would jerk her head with hatred. 

Her next class – on anatomy – was not taught by a doctor but rather by an instructor from the National College of Arts. While drawing, he talked like an ordinary man as he drew various organs. His teaching methods were interesting. He spoke eloquently on the aesthetic beauty of different body parts. After class, Tania invited him for a cup of tea. Ali Baba accepted her offer. He looked disheveled, wearing torn jeans and a full beard covering most of his face. He wore two-toned glasses upon his little nose, attached to a thin string behind his ears.

They continued talking about elegance and aesthetics for a good while. Tania became more interested when he discussed his particular physical features. A small chin, he explained, was the reason for his long beard. And it also balanced the proportions of his face, creating symmetry and, in turn, visual appropriateness. When the conversation turned to clothes, he described his clothes – which were old and torn, stitched together with strips – as more economical than the expensive brand names on the market. He thought one’s style should be unique and part of one’s identity. 

When they talked about life in the future, Tania was amazed that Ali Baba drew forms that resembled those of the Indian subcontinent’s goddess of beauty, Madhoo Bala. There were three thousand pictures of Madhoo Bala in his portfolio. He told her he was in quest of a beauty that resembled this goddess. Ali Baba imagined such a physique with perfect precision. He wished to have a model like this to transform his fantasy into reality. He spent a significant portion of his salary in brothels to gaze at young, beautiful naked bodies. He wanted to draw them, but no more. On this topic, Tania challenged him, asserting that drawing nude women was a sin and prohibited by their religion. Ali Baba responded with great perseverance and passion. Like lawyers, engineers, bankers, and doctors, the art of painting is a profession of merit. One must acknowledge that the pursuit of knowledge exists in the domain of artwork just as it does for other professions. Studying the human body yields several benefits in addition to aesthetics.

If a doctor looks upon a woman’s body during surgery, why was an artist not allowed to do the same to create a masterpiece? Tania disagreed with Ali Baba since doctors must see naked bodies to save them. If a surgeon looks at the naked body of a woman in the process of an operation, there is no harm. Similarly, it is not sinful if unlawful food is eaten in a desperate situation. They could not reach an agreement but agreed to be friends nonetheless. Their friendship grew. Tania took an interest in Ali Baba. She went to much trouble to spend time in his company. But Ali Baba maintained his side of the friendship in formal terms since he had no mental harmony with her. That is to say, Ali Baba had no interest in women except for his masterpiece. With time, Ali Baba appeared less and less and eventually disappeared altogether. Tania also left for America after completing her education, but the memory of Ali Baba with his torn pants did not vanish from the far corner of her mind.

One day, after watching horse carriages in Central Park, Tania started to recall her student days. The scene of traveling by tanga (horse cart) from Garhi Shahoo to her medical college brought her back to Lahore. Her heart grew light at the memories of Lahore, and she longed to ride a Central Park horse carriage. So she hired one, which took her past The Plaza Hotel and around the periphery of Central Park. Suddenly, she saw pictures of New York City lying in a flat wicker basket on the sidewalk. In glass frames, some black and white portraits of Hollywood stars, like Humphrey Bogart and Marilyn Monroe. An African man was selling purses with forged brands and counterfeit watches. Some nearby artists were selling their masterpieces that were sitting on the ground. Amid the flat wicker baskets, some photographers took snapshots of the passersby. She saw a familiar long black beard on a folding chair behind a vast drawing pad. 

The distant memory of Ali Baba emerged in her mind, but she did not want to leave the horse carriage. But when the circuit of Central Park was complete, she started on foot to search for him amidst the rows of photographers. But Ali was nowhere to be found. She returned to her apartment in great sadness and excitement about possibly finding Ali Baba again. 

The next day, she searched for Ali Baba among the artists outside Central Park. Her heart soared as she spotted him sketching a charcoal portrait of a Frenchman. Suddenly, the memories of the days past reappeared, and she was overjoyed. They exchanged updates on how they spent their days. Tania took an immense interest in Ali’s class, were he drew living human beings at a school where anyone interested in figure drawing could enroll. No prior education was required for this class. The Art Students League was close to Central Park, and class time was 6 p.m. 

Tania decided to attend the art session since she could quickly finish her work before art class. Ali Baba was pleased to have her accompany him. The next day, they reached The Art Student League at 6 p.m. The drawing room was packed full, with students seated in a circle. On every bench, an artist sat with their drawing pad and a pencil or charcoal. Inside the circle of chairs stood a nude model. The first pose lasted two minutes. Then there were changing poses for five minutes each. The last pose was the longest and lasted one hour.

With total concentration, the artists drew the contours of her body. While Ali Baba described this, Tania recalled the accounts of her anatomy class. The heart, kidney, and bladder suspended in red tissue throughout the body filled her with disgust and nausea. She grew more agitated when she realized that though all the artists were looking at the nude model, the model was gazing at Tania’s distressed face. At the end of the session, the model ran off to the dressing room and returned to the class fully dressed. She spoke to Tania. Tania asked if she did this posing for the money, to which she replied no. As they said, Tania’s expression bloomed like a sunflower, as if a secret was being told to her. In the meantime, Ali Baba went to his locker to place his things.

As usual, Ali Baba went to his drawing class the next day. He didn’t chat with Tania all day and concluded that perhaps she didn’t like being exposed to nude bodies. All the artists sat down at their respective benches. Ali Baba also removed his pad from the corner of the bar and arranged his drawing tools. He grabbed a thick charcoal pencil from a leather pouch and gripped it tightly between his fingers. His mind wondered how to connect the pencil with the images before him. After dividing the paper into quadrants, he raised his eyes to concentrate on the nude model. Suddenly, he felt an electric shock through his body as if a 200-volt bulb lit up in his mind. But it was more like a 440-volt shock because Tania was standing nude before him. Ali felt an electric wave circulate throughout his body, and his blood circulation grew; his heart started showering hues of color instead of blood to his brain. His hand started sweeping on her page like a wall had been lifted from his brain. He finally found the thing he had been searching for so long. 

Tania looked at the artists around her. She found them painting her beauty with admiration. She felt their appreciation from their eyes as if they were all reciting her ode through their gaze, praising her head to toe. For the first time, she became intoxicated by her beauty. For the first time, she felt that her body was not a machine complex of pulleys and components but contained a soul and spirit only recognizable by another spirit.  She felt such joy as if she were the beauty queen.

At the end of the drawing period, Ali Baba danced like an insane man. As soon as Tania returned from the dressing room fully dressed, Ali Baba embraced her happily with trembling hands and swirling passion of enthusiasm and pleasure, he showed her his drawing. He told her that the glittering spark of her beauty broke the lock of his mind, and his search for a masterpiece in a body was complete. Tania glanced at the drawing. With surprise, she saw the image of Madhubala.

Portrait in Words | Mumtaz Hussain

The Alphabet of the Image |
Mumtaz Hussain’s short stories with paintings

• Chapter 1 | The Barking Crow
• Chapter 2 | When the Rain Shines through the Sunlight
• Chapter 3 | Her Resplendent Face
• Chapter 4 | Enigmatic Mumtaz
• Chapter 5 | Mona Lisa of Bones and Flesh
• Chapter 6 | The Death of Life
• Chapter 7 | His Master’s Voice
• Chapter 8 | Half Shut Eye Wisdom
• Chapter 9 | The Bride of God
• Chapter 10 | The Fragile Mountains and the Flowing Moonlight
• Chapter 11 | Adam’s Rib
• Chapter 12 | Godly Bastard
• Chapter 13 | Poppy cultivated in Heaven
• Chapter 14 | Virus Bomb

See:

Pakistani Mumtaz Hussain Bags 2024 International Impact Book Award (April 23, 2024)

Historic Win for Pakistani-American at International Impact Book Awards (April 13, 2024)