A weird prose- Colours!

Colour me red with your eye and throw me in the fire. Let me burn and bake until my skin is caked. Until the red turns black and the black turns blue, let me roast. I want you to not look at me when all this happens. I want you to turn around and put on some sneakers. I want you to take a walk around the street, across the town, waving to yellow people and smiley faces. I want to turn red and then black to blue, without you.

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