Painting it GREEN!

Dark GREY Clouds overshadowing the BLUEness of sky, Birds taking shelter in the BROWNs of wood, Sparking YELLOW flames of Camp fire spreading warmth and CYANs of waterfall carrying the REDdish clay along its length. All this against the BLACK Backdrop of Nilgiris.

I am ...

Noone else but me can define me.

Am I defined by the education that I have recieved or by the education that I intend to recieve? Or is it the knowledge that I have accumulated of which I am not even fully aware of. Could I ever be fully aware of it is another question that has no answer.

Am I defined by the pointed organ (undefined humans have defined it as nose) in my face or by the face as a whole? Or the structure that carries that face? This could not be a clear definition as well since I could not see most part of it. But I certainly could feel the whole of it and I sincerely do. So, I can define me. No, the definitions that come to my mind are so different and so opposing that it does not fit in to give one single meaning.

Am I defined by the soul I am supposed to have? Do I have it? If yes, then it should be free as we go by its defination (again given by undefined). But my soul is not, had it been, I would not have been thinking of defining me.

Am I defined by the attitude I keep or I try to keep? My trials are seldom successful. The should I be defined by my successful trials or unsuccessful ones?

Am I defined by the acts I do or I don't do? I have lied, so am I a liar? I have loved people, so am I a lover? I am writing now, so does I become a writer? I do acts of good (or god) and acts of bad (or devil). My definition should therefore have elements of goodness and badness (if someone has defined this term) in it. Phew! Now I know atleast what can be the structure of my definition.

Am I defined by the name or surname I have been christened with or several other names that people may have kept for me? Am I defined by the objects I buy and use (or may be not use)? Am I defined by the cordinates of mine on planet or planets? No, that can't be as it is only me who can define me. And all these probable definitions of me are not given by me.

So, what is my definition after all? I cannot take help from anyone, cannot orchest it from reading thousand books, cannot see it in purest of mirrors or cannot understand it from any of my random or systematised motions or lack of thereof. But do I require to define myself? Or have I defined myself already?

I AM ME. There is no definition which can find its abolute suitability, my acts keep on psuedo defining me and psuedo redifining them, invisible souls and thoughts cannot impregnate my definition, names and suranmes too diminishes infront of ME, no praise or depravity of it can upstage my aura. I am ME.

THREADED RELATIONS

Throw it towards me. Quick! Quick!

And the Chakri came sloping down towards the kid with the blue shirt. The happiness in his eyes had lit his dark brown eyes with magical colors and the face of his friend at the other end of the thread with reddish luminance. The yellow piece of wood moving along sparkling red fiber tied to tiny fingers of two boys made me realize how the entire setting resemble our life and relationships.

Sloping of wood from one end to another, transferring love through threads of relationship generates joy of such level that there seem no ends. More the thrust is given from one end, the packets of love reaches the fag end faster. Life feels so complete that other tied fingers with relaxed threads become temporarily numb. These relaxed threads had once given similar pleasure. Now, they are knotted at several places, some more, other less. The yellow toy now has limited space to travel due to knots. Neither do it touches fingers.

However, the knots have made the distance shorter and kids can now see emotions through their jittery eyes directly. The fun of play has diminished but the strength of thread has been retained over the years. The colour of these threads though has diminished but there is an assuredness that it will remain of the same colour in future. These treads tie two lives together. These threads may be relaxed but not loose.

The threads that tie two souls is inherently fated to hold forever. Evidently, it takes disinterest from only one end to let the string fall in ground but painful efforts from both the ends to snap the red line. The stronger the thread, deeper will it cut the fingers. The wounds may heal but will show its presence forever. The hurt is from within. The penance for the same may be not just the twitching of thread, but the finger itself. The fate as stated. Vacuum at one end and lifelong carriage of remorse at the other, dragging behind.

Or, soothing touch of two hands can unknot the obstacles for wood to once again wriggle with all its valour. The process is tougher considering the fact that the kids have grown and requires the effort from TWO hands. The Process seems meaningless without the knowledge of result. The Process requires tremendous patience as some knots may budge to open. The Process requires precision as the thread may cause bruises if rushed to. The process is slow but generates elation of divine magnitude. The play restored is much more exhilarating then original start and partnership more stable.

Why did you do that? Why can't you have taken more care? Now it's broken. We will have to leave now.

A sad anguish from the boy in black pajamas brought me back to life. Tear drops were soaking the blue shirt of the younger one. I went to him and hugged him.

Uncle, don't console him. He has spoiled the play by letting the thread break.

I extended my hand to the other boy directing him to cozy up on my vacant lap. He came running towards it and sat showing bad face to the younger kid. This made him sob even faster and fasten around me with tighter grip.

The threads are in our head. Fingers can count only ten. Look at him. The threads are replaceable but not him. Treasure this bond. The piece of twine is just one of the ways to hold together and enjoy life.

I stood up as the boys loosened their hold, realizing that they may not have understood a single word. However, when I looked back from the distance, the older one was clearing the tears out of the younger boy's face.