Life, Colour and Woman

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Dedicated to J.A.B.
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Have you noticed how some ideas pop up at you when you least expect them, like a hunter jumping at his game from the bushes? This is one such idea. It jumped at me yesterday night, when I was snuggling in between the sheets reading a Mark Twain story - 'The diary of Adam and Eve'. It just shot at me out of the sheets like a cork out of a pop gun.

This idea gave me the queer suggestion that colour came into existence only after women were created. Maybe the world was colourful before women came in here, but noone could recognize that without a woman. So the world was as good as colourless, the idea suggested. It slowly unfurled itself, the idea, spiralling and turning in my mind's eye before it had me in its thrall completely. Not one objection could I find to the suggestion. No woman, no colour! The world must have not even been black and white, just colourless like water. The idea began to charm me. I trusted it.

How could man have possibly recognized colour ever? How could he even create it? It takes a woman's coyness to paint the evening sky in shades of crimson. It takes her dark tresses to daub the entire world with the shades of night.

How would spring burst forth in all her splendour if woman did not laugh her silvery cascade? How would fall bring out her rich shades if no woman lay curled in crumpled sleep? Where would the raging forest fire dance if not for a woman's passionate kiss?

The deep oceans, don't tell me they with their teasing waves can get their blue hue if no woman lit her eyes with the light of love. Where would the cascade get her silvery sheen if not from a woman's tears? The lush green fields would not shine so if no woman became a mother. The rainbow! We would have no rainbow if a single woman did not clip her nails and cast them away.

The idea went on thus. It twirled and twisted into coils, coils that enchanted the mind into trust. It spoke the truth. Woman brought colour into this world. Just like she brought magic into life.

And life...life has its own colour as well. A colour that is different for each life. A colour that is not seen by eyes. A woman gives life that colour.

The name of my life's colour is that of a new-born calf. A calf that has a new colour everytime it is born.

So what colour has a woman brought into your life?