I want to be toughened, I want to glisten with sweat. I want the sweat to escape my pores and envelope my skin. I want it to teach me, guide me, glide me across the burning pyre toward the blueness.
I then want you to come over and watch. I want you to see what I turned into when you turned your back on me. I want you see me blue and then turn green with envy.
I don’t want you to stay green though. I want you to turn generic yellow. I want no tinge of purple on your skin. I want you to disappear in the blackness as you step back, slowly and steadily. I want you to fall among square bricks, well-aligned and sorted out- just the way you like it. I want you to be safe and secure all your life. Caged in squares with all your Rubik’s cubes solved and all your smiles planned and premeditated.
I will sit on my small white cloud, a little blue but I will have red eyes. No red eye correction software will work on me and I will burn within. But from outside, I will be blue and sometimes even purple.
If you, by any chance, realize that squares are boring or that clouds are more fun, come to me running. I will await your arrival sitting on this cloud. You can look at me and smile, it will be your first unplanned smile but that’s the furthest I can allow you to go. I would not be able to hold my hand out and pull you up on my cloud. Because by then, I would have floated high above. Because, sometimes clouds drift away.
So, just go ahead and colour me red!
–Abhyudaya Shrivastava Copyright 2014