Once in a remote village of UP there lived a boy named Shyam, with his parents and three sisters. His was a poor family and his father worked as a daily wage labourer at the village Pradhan's fields. Shyam's father could not afford his education and hence he had to drop out of school when he was only in his 1st Grade. He used to help his father by taking the cow out for grazing during the day.

Each morning his mother would pack a couple of rotis for his lunch. He would get dressed in a plain kurta-pyjama and carry with him a small bamboo stick. Everyday he took the cow to the hill top from where he could see the Ganga river flowing. He would settle down under a tree and would leave the cow nearby to graze.

Often he would use a charcoal to make some drawings on the bare rocks strewn on the surface of the hill. He would sketch the landscape, the river, the hills, the trees. At time he would sketch birds perched on tree tops.

He would often rub his drawings on the rocks, but he himself couldn't understand what made him rub those drawings, was it the fear of someone discovering them or was it the fear of facing the criticism. But, he knew one thing for sure that he loved to sketch and he would sketch everyday and slowly he was getting better. Still he feared, he feared the perfection of the expert, he feared the comparison, he feared the criticism.

He would often dream at night, that he is sitting on a rock by the shore of the sea and making beautiful paintings of the sunset, the birds returning home, the waves of the sea, glistening white and fiery red in the light of the setting sun. But, suddenly his paintings would be set on fire by a few shadows, silhouetted against the dancing flames of his paintings. Those shadows would laugh mockingly at him. He often had such nightmares, and he would refrain from drawing for weeks, but something in his heart kept tugging and finally he would give up and draw again.

Drawing always filled his heart with a song. He would hum a tune the whole day, his heart felt light and would also add a spring in his walk and a smile on his face.

One day, he got so lost in his drawing, he drew the whole day and forgot about everything else, when it started to get dark, he quickly started preparing to return home. After packing he started searching for his cow. The cow was nowhere to be seen, he looked all around, it started getting dark, he started to panic, he could barely see in the dark. He called out the cows name, he started getting exhausted, he ran downhill, screaming along the bank of the river. His parents back home started worrying about him, he had never stayed out so late.

In the end he gave up and returned home. On hearing the news his parents were shocked and his mother could not hide her grief. His father picked up two lanterns, handed one to Shyam and without saying a word started in the direction of the hill. Shyam followed him without a word. They searched the whole night, but the cow was not to be found. By the time the returned it was already dawn. The cow provided for their daily supply of milk, and at times Shyam's mother used the surplus milk to make butter and then sold it to the local shop. The money was then used for medicines and other household items.

Now with the cow gone, meant extra work for Shyam's father, and if things didn't look good his mother would also have to work as a housemaid, to provide for the household expenses and save at the same time till they can afford another cow. But the expenses kept mounting, soon Shyam had to go to work too.

With all the burden of the work, he could never find the time to play or do what his heart desired. His little heart pained. His freedom was lost. The work tired him so much, everyday he would return home, eat his dinner and go off to sleep almost immediately. His frustration kept on piling up, but as he held himself guilty he never complained.

The day the cow was lost, and seeing the consequences Shyam had sworn to himself that he would never ever draw again. He thought that it was his drawing that engaged him like a devil and made him neglect his responsibility which caused all this pain to his family.

He never ever drew again. It was kind of a self inflicted punishment he had given himself. But, within his heart he knew how much he craved to draw. One day he couldn't resist and ran to the hill, on reaching there he desperately hunted for the rock on which he had drawn that day. But, his drawing had been washed away. He hugged the rock and cried.

Shyam never drew again and never again visited that hill.