Colour me Happy

How can I be blue when I’m tan?

How can you ever be green when all I see is the animosity and jealousy in your eyes as you look at dazzling sapphires on my finger?

Red may be joy or passion or something that you paint the town; yellow may be sunshine, joy, friendship or a rude description for the Asians.

How can we as a specie be black, white, yellow and a concoction of all the colours imaginable?

Have we been created to add to the universe more meaning and flavors that unite us, define us and make each of truly unique? 

The ability to blend in and stand apart at the same instant is unlike that of a chameleon in the Amazons or a Zebra in the Namibian plains. Most of us are in some way or another a kaleidoscope of dreams, wants, needs and aspirations. Little do we know how far we will go in this life or the next. It’s the unpredictability of an instant from the previous that makes the colors in the rainbow worth following for the pot of gold at the end. Doesn’t it add to the excitement of being a minuscule entity in galaxies beyond our imagination!

How did red, blue and yellow become so very significant and colossal in a world of infinite possibilities? The teal, aqua, cobalt, azure, burgundy, beige, peach, indigo, magenta, lime, amber, coral, ivory, Charlemagne, and neons of hope all around us, within us unknown to those that are blind, and so vivid to those who see.  

Why is it so black and white when we are just single digits into the world? Do the dreams diminish or get blurred as the numbers increase, is it a reciprocal of our time here that makes us slowly drown out the call of the universe and shift gears towards the call of corporate mayhem or societal obligations? Think back to the first wish you can recall, it may be the desire to be a space cowboy, a painter, a photographer, maybe even an engineer. Where do all those get pushed back? Who really kills the exuberance, the audacity and the can do-ness? It may be your parent, or your caretaker or even the teacher that is sour ’cause they were told the same and believe its a vicious cycle that must be followed.

Can we now be iconoclasts ourselves or should we too succumb to the norms of conventional, orthodox themes, occupations and desires for our offspring?

Make up your mind and Imagesee if you can salvage the Vibgyor of your little ones that is fast approaching a deep plunge into oblivion. 

“I was blind, but Now I see.” –Limitless



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