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You are here: Home / Family / Colours Of Life!!! – Touching Short Story of Love

Colours Of Life!!! – Touching Short Story of Love

Published by Fareena Maria in category Family | Social and Moral with tag color | colour | death | family | leukemia | Life | Love | Mother | SPIXer

Touching Short Story of Love – Colours of Life!!!

This short story became SPIXer (Most popular story) on 26 May 2012

Touching Short Story of Love - Colours of Life
Photo credit: clarita from morguefile.com

Touching Short Story of Love - Colours of Life

There, next to the photo of her, lay a bunch of flowers. Dull. Lifeless. Pale. It has been over a month since the onset of leukaemia ripped her away. The world has become discoloured. My mother used to say that life is coloured by circumstances and situations.

Yet all I can see is gray. Is gray even a colour?

It was one of those days… my mind was restless. In an attempt to free it, I left the house, allowing my wandering consciousness to search for peace, condolence and relief.

One of my favourite places to visit when I needed time alone was the seashore. Its immensity was of no concern to me, but in actual fact the ocean was calm, tranquil and vast; full of life. The rolling waves crashing onto the beach below reached in lightly touching the feet of the children playing in the sand before drawing its hand back into its body. Though I was not at the water’s side, it too reached deep into me for something unidentifiable. As I was leaving I observed again, the splendorous blue of the magnificent sea.

Blue, the calm colour of inner strength and peace.

The nearby park was a place of exquisiteness; it was a reminder of the perfect balance that nature had in place. If only my balance could be so perfect. It was a long walk before I could find a quiet location. Lying down on the spongy grass, the smell of the freshly mown lawns  was strong but soothing; bringing back treasured memories of the time she was still here, when we would lie down and watch the sky run away as the world turned. The effortless gliding of the seagulls in the air, the crawling of the ants along the footpath but most of all the gentle swaying the trees above, the whispering between the leaves of the hidden knowledge they possessed. A solace. Today, however, was a much quieter day. The gulls stayed out at sea but a draft of air continued to blow in gently, lightly brushing at the trees. It was a serene atmosphere, nature always remained composed. I felt a part of it lying there on the luscious green grass. I shared myself with it.

Green, a restful colour of renewal, balance and harmony.

The sun was lowering itself towards and below the horizon. It was the end of another day. People were beginning to leave, the city was slowing down. As the people gathered and left, the park emptied. The only sounds left were the cars heading south down the highway. It left an eerie feel. The end of a day signified the end of city life. Above the city, the sky displayed unparalleled beauty, coloured in countless shades of orange, the darkest on the east stretching towards the golden sun where the shades of orange glowed brightly. The great star had lost its gleam from earlier in the day; its new colour was mellow with a hint of gold. To me, it represented hope. The setting of the sun indicated the end of the day but with that, it brought the prospect of a brand new one.

Orange, an energising colour of warmth and energy. Yellow, a cheerful colour of happiness and joy.

As night set in and the traffic finally died down, the lights of the city began to shine, like how the stars in the sky illuminated and animated the darkness. Stargazing brought upon me some childhood memories, my youthful days when lying in the rural field every night was a routine. The twinkling glimmer of the celestial bodies had always amused me, the way they were all spread apart they were free from each other, free from influences and most of all free from burdens. As I sat up, I saw a phenomenon, far out from the shore, the darkness was lit purple, by what looked like a flowing river of glowing lights. Twisting and turning, the constant stream of neon meandered its way across the mysterious darkness.

Purple, a mysterious  colour of nobility and spirituality.

Though the lightshow only lasted a couple of minutes, it conveyed to me an indefinable sensation but it was a pleasant one nonetheless. The feelings that had taken place were not complete but they were sufficient.

It took a while to comprehend, but the natural world is full of beauty and unpredictable occurrences, but unlike the (artificial?) world we live in, it is peaceful. Eventually all the colours returned to me.

Well, all but one. The colour red. The colour of love and affection. To me, there’s no one who can replace her, but now and again, I observe shades of pink , but only occasionally.

“Circumstances and situations do color life but you have been given the mind to choose what  the color shall be.” – John Homer Miller

Read more like this: by Author Fareena Maria in category Family | Social and Moral with tag color | colour | death | family | leukemia | Life | Love | Mother | SPIXer

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