Just a Wall

It is just a wall...... still, it is a wall. A rough, banal surface, cheap white wash with yellow blotches, a reminisce of last year's monsoon. A wall: why this word sounds so heavy? I remember my neighbor Ms. G and her boundary wall. Yes, it was the boundary wall, she told us created the whole ruckus between them. Mr. G decided to leave his wife because they couldn’t agree on the height of the boundary. A wave of shock swept our neighbor hood and left a swamp of rumors filling every backyard.

G’s were a traditional Indian family. Two grownup sons, a duplex with a garden and a Honda parked outside the gate: a symbol of financial wellness. Mr. G, a chartered accountant in his late fifties known to be reticent (when compared with his garrulous wife). In his hay days he was in the list of good catch, a man of simple habits, loved his food, a studious boy overall a good husband material. It was a shock, when he left his wife, some say for a pretty lady from his office.

The walls in my room need white washing or may be some color this time. May be colored ceilings will be more in tangent with my new neighbor. Their weekend celebration keeps me awake for more than one reason: firstly due to the high tech system blaring hard rock. Secondly, it makes me aware, which I try to push below the carpet; the drudgery of my life. Every thud brings me close to my monotonous existence and fills me with heaviness. I should change the color of my room (and so my life).

Life, I often think about life, just like a wall, banal, open ready to adjust and sometimes feel very heavy. Since when my life has become a burden, I never thought it will turn out like this. I remember not very long ago, I had dreams to become a movie star. I imagined myself to be picked by a producer while shopping in a grocery shop, it was imaginable almost real. Now, it seems a walk to the grocery store is unimaginable. Life presents itself to us as a blank canvas; it’s up to us to decide the colors. My dilemma is: the choice of color for life and the walls of my room. Red is loud and stubborn, blue is transient, yellow is common and green very persuasive. Black is possessive so I’m left with white; yes white is the color. I will choose white: the color of acceptance and humility.

The wall doesn’t seem so heavy anymore. It’s vibrant and beautiful; I’m feeling so light as if, flying. I remember the feeling I used to have in my stomach when I saw a bird flying; especially an eagle flying high in sky, with grace and courage. Freedom! This is the word I’ve been looking for; the only word which can be understood with experience as they say; the taste of freedom. This is what must have drove Mr. G out of his house. It’s the freedom that push’s people out of their cocoon and force to take risk and face our fears head on. Mr G finally decided to live life and change the colors of his life. He chose yellow ….. Yes yellow!

Mr G lives in a yellow house with red boundary; he has left his business and has started an orphanage in our neighborhood. I visited his orphanage; the walls were rough but vibrant almost alive.