Childhood - Life of Colors

A story about childhood experience

That morning, I woke up after a sound sleep and a wonderful dream to see the beauty of earth. My dream appeared like a comedy movie in 1970’s. Everything was perfect in my dream, there was happiness, there was excitement, but something was missing… the events in my dream was in black and white….the missing colligate was color…there was no color….I realized that like my dream, my reality also is missing colors, but I could not understand the reason behind it..

I was in a vacation, and was staying alone at Kodaikanal. My dream led me to the balcony and was putting effort to continue the joy I had in my dream. Suddenly the phone rang. That unexpected phone call seemed to be a real disturbance when I was enjoying the calm and cold morning with a cup of hot tea.  With a prolonged reluctance, I went in the bed room to answer the call, but it got stopped when I reached the bed room. The sudden advent of silence made me happy again. When I was about to return my mobile started ringing. The mobile phone screen showed the face of the caller and it was my wife. I felt a bit relieved but showed my unhappiness in my voice while answering the call.

“Dad”,voice of my 5 years old daughter eliminated all my unhappiness

“Minnooo, U woke up, where is your Mom? “My sound was full of anxiety

The answer was prompt, “I want to fly, but mom is not letting me”

“Oh dear, you can’t fly, only birds can do fly” I tried to make her understand, but her answer was embarrassing, “No Dad, we also can fly. I have seen people flying on TV”

At that particular moment, I really hated the one who invented Animation and made a fruitless effort to convince my daughter that human beings can’t fly. Being unsuccessful, I left that giant task to my wife. When I returned to the balcony, I wished to get back my childhood with all its excitements. When I was a child, I used to watch movies with greater level of exhilaration. I did pray for the well being of heroes and heroines of movies. I did cry for them, I became happy for them. I could not explain the happiness I had when my heroes came out of troubles. I don’t know from when, I could realize that these heroes and heroines are not real and both the happiness and sorrow along with respective colors in their life are scripted by someone else.  That might be the day I lost my childhood.

Losing childhood to become a mature individual was not a good experience. I lost that level of excitement by watching movies. Now I know these are scripted by someone. I lost the feeling that these movie characters are a part of this world. Now I cannot give my mental support to the characters of the movies as I did before. Most importantly, I lost colors in life. Now instead of looking at the green forest, I would hurry to reach home where my family is waiting for me. Instead of enjoying the beauty of rain, I will rush to office where I have a lot of things to do.

Now, when I lost childhood, I preferred to become busy rather than going outside and see the colors of the world. The argument of my little one made me wish to get my colorful childhood back with all its innocence. I want to believe that the western border of the planet is Arabian sea, eastern border is Punnamada lake, southern border is Kallikkaadu and northern border is Pathushery…. From that limited planet, I want to believe that there is something colorful outside this planet and I want to fly to see that…Now I could understand why I missed colors in my reality and I wished to go back to my childhood to have access to the greater extent of colors which is practically impossible. The  realization that my desire is not achievable brought two tear drops in my eyes….yet I am waiting for a miracle….a miracle that bring colors back to my life again.

Reviews

[Suja]

You inflicted a desire to go back to my childhood again....

[It's Me, The Miracle]

Thanks a lot dear friend

[Riding the Rainbow]

really touching and very true..
well done..

[It's Me, The Miracle]

Thanks Kejara

[Zero_Edge88]

Deep and very nostalgic, something to look at in this life is that despite what hue or shade it may be the color of our tears is one of those that we cannot even change. For even in a miracle there always seems to be a time where we break down and somehow come to terms this is the life we are about to live. It's a melancholic feeling in there that makes us wonder about our life. I mean I wasn't ruined much of my childhood when it came down to what's real and fake because my brothers who are older than me already taught a couple of those already. The only miracle I believe in these days is knowing if I will ever make it out of my house and travel on my own. What an experience you went through.

[It's Me, The Miracle]

Thanks a lot for this very creative review

[Zero_Edge88]

You're very welcome. Hope your day is going well over there so far :)