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It started raining. Suddenly all my slow and grinding thought process gave way to the realization of the urgent world I lived in. Things are so fast here, fast enough to make most of the life go by without even receiving from me a fleeting glance, let alone a comprehensive one. hence, it was no use trying to catch those fleeting glances. I gave up on the larger life, and started to concentrate on the more readily comprehensible elements of it as I started to walk down the bricked road that leads from my house to a small market place two winding turns downhill.
There are houses on both sides of this mountain road, quite contrary to popular architecture. but they don’t exactly look like houses, but just 2 continuous walls on either side of the road, independently changing colors every ten feet, with a wooden door stuck in the middle of each colored rectangular patch, and a small window to the left of each door. There is also a two foot overhead roof that juts out just to protect the door and the window from any direct rain. Every door is a bit elevated from the road level, and has two steps connecting it to the brick road.
The rain is making everything so fresh yet empty, as if all the town was a recent settlement, with some houses yet unoccupied. But then I saw a beggar sitting on the steps to a pink house, clutching to his minimal upper body clothing to save himself from the chill that the rain brought along. Strange, that he chose the pink house. There was a light green one, a dark green one, some blue, some red, lots of yellow, some white and a brown one to choose from as well.
He is poor, full of misery and dejection. He could have gone for the brown one, the one that signifies sadness and wistfulness. I wonder whether the owners of the house are sad and dejected as well; anyways. But perhaps, he wants to feel happy about the rain too, despite the rejection this society, and now the weather is tormenting him with.
But then, why did he not go for the yellow house? Yellow is supposed to be a very optimistic color. Perhaps because they say that people generally loose their tempers more often in yellow rooms, and babies will cry more in yellow rooms. So maybe, he has experienced some aggressive or angry moments in front of such houses.
But if he wanted peace, he could have gone for one of the blue ones! The color blue is supposed to stimulate production of calming chemicals in the body, and hence lead to tranquility as well. Perhaps peace is not all that this rain is making him seek at this point of time. Maybe each scorching sun will make him seek shelter in the calm shade of blue, but not this rain. So, blue would be for another mood.
So, what would his mood be right now! He may seek peace, yes because he is poor and has seen troubled times, he may seek positivity, yes because he wants to see the brighter side of his life. But then, the rain today is so beautiful, the sky so dark and heavy that one can not but help get lost in the present, forget the past and stop worrying about the future, just love the present. Yes, that’s it, love. That’s what he might be looking for. But then, he didn’t choose the red house as well. Red is the color of love!
Aaah, I get it. It’s not love of a fellow human being, or love of a wife or a love of a prostitute that he seeks right now. He is probably romanticizing about the beauty of the nature. It is not love literally, but a peaceful, calm, romantic feeling that he has for the weather. He is not worried about his past, not about his future, just trying to persevere through the present, as he always does, but at the same time, trying to enjoy his present existence as well. As a kid, even I used to do that, just get drenched in the rain, not worried about how cold I would get, how much I would be shivering, or how many days of illness I would have to go through as a result of the present pleasure. It was all about romanticizing with mother nature! Tranquility and romance; the color pink!
The coffee was cold now, as I felt its last drop trickle into my mouth. Things were still not right. Someone should take control now, I have to take control now. I’ve had enough of destiny and time handling things for me. All of it hasn’t been paying off.
I rose from the arm-chair, reflecting on the happenings that’d transpired over the last couple of days. I was in regret, deep regret. In a fashion manifesting inner degradation, I approached the door, twisted the knob, and exited that melancholy environment.
In the fresh of the outside, with the dew drops tickling my bare skin, I felt dazed. I felt a lack of purpose, a dying motivation, the sudden lull of the soul and an abrupt heart-beat. I was unable to think anymore. Life had seemingly entered a comatose state, the nearest mine had come to death!
After a few moments went by, a realization set in. The guilt had spoken, and was now gone, pooffed into in-existence, all consumed up. The soul was cold already, the lull was not new. It was my body which was supposed to end this thread, to take the baton from the vanished guilt and run for the finish line. I could not give up now, not forever.
I then ordered my legs to move, and my heart to be strong, as I motivated my mind to prepare for the eventual peace.
