Someone told me told that colours were almost scary. That he disliked them or liked them less than black and white because they were vibrant, they seem to expect something from him.
I like colour. I think it adds to the world, and very literally to my life. Me running out of crayons or coloured paper, both of which happened this week, is nearly an existential crisis. I start questioning everything when I can’t colour or see colour around me. Having said that, I like black and white too. I like it cause it’s simple, and uncluttered, and because it gives colour perspective. Just like I’ve always believed that you need sadness to feel true happiness, I think you need black and white to truly appreciate the vibrancy of colour.
For me, life is coloured by many things. I drive to college every morning. The other day, I was stuck in slow-moving traffic, characteristic of a busy morning in the city, when a bike hit the side of my car and it fell over. I had just started moving and from what I could tell it wasn’t my fault at all. Evidently the guy on the bike didn’t think so. He got off and started yelling, bang in the middle of a busy road. I pulled over, got out, apologised and tried to explain the it wasn’t really my fault, rather his. He refused to listen as he went on his rant on women drivers and their inadequacies. Not for long though. A young girl came up to me and asked me what was wrong. I explained and the guy began yelling again. The girl told him that she had seen what happened, and that she saw that it wasn’t my fault. The guy began to mutter and asked her if she was my friend, she said she wasn’t, just a passer-by. She asked him what he wanted me to do, and he shut up. And drove of with mutters of FIRs and the such.I thanked the girl and she said she din’t do much and smiled. Before I could do much more, she had to leave, as did I.
I thought of her on the way to college. I hear so much about this country and the sad state it is in. How everyone is only interested in profit and getting ahead. How noone does anything for anyone, anymore. And then, suddenly, I see something that resembles hope 🙂
To my friend, this is why colour doesn’t scare me. Because I believe it makes my world a better place. I don’t think hope is foolish. I don’t think happiness is naive. I like waking up and seeing that the sky is not just blue like my first teacher told me but it’s got streaks of red and orange and gold. I like thinking of an emotion and seeing a colour for it.
To that random girl, I didn’t get to ask you for your name or what you do, but you should know that you’ve added another shade to the colours I paint my life with. Thank you for the random act of kindness, I hope you read this, someday.