Red letter day

RED colour has always fascinated and appealed me. As far as my reminiscences go, as a child, I loved wearing red clothes. I started riding a red bicycle. My first bike was a red Kinetic Honda. The story is no different with my new red car. Red is my passion. It is my weakness. Red is my strength. It is my experiment. Red is my joy. Red is my vibrancy.

Red speaks volumes of hues of emotions. Red has its own language. It does not have silence in it. Perhaps that’s what drew me more towards the colour red. Until, an evening when I received my MRI report. The MRI report had many red marks. For the first time, I developed quirk feelings for the colour I loved so much, since my childhood. Something in those red marks made me pale. There was a sharp contrast between the colour in the report I was holding which had much use of bright red marks and my pale face which was colourless.I never wanted to have a long life. But who anticipates an unexpected early notice? At least I did not. I still do not believe. My Indian-American 'handsome' oncologist thinks optimism pays in the long run. Everything that happens in life is meant to serve a purpose-good or bad. When I was unaware about my illness, I indulged lavishly in procrastinations. Of late, I want to make the best use of every micro-second of my life. Many a times, back home, I wanted to tell someone that he holds a special place in my life. I deluged it on time. Now time betrays me. Even he is going through a ruthless and uncompromising personal loss and I am seven seas across. I cannot be with him. I am shattered into shambles learning about his torment.I never knew I would not have time to tell him about my love for him. Life’s best things quite often happen at short notices at wrong timings. I thought a zillion times if I should express about my feelings but I withdrew. The final 'yes' consent comes from the soul now. I still firmly believe life is long. When, where, how and why, I know not now but I will meet him again in this lifetime...