
Picking up the threads of my previous post on unearthing treasures that were consigned to the oblivion by me at some point of time in the past, one of the relics was a stack of these brightly hued, vibrant and dainty paper bags that I had bought on my last trip to the United States way back in 2007. I had purchased them at a dollar-shop around the time of my return. The intention was to use them as a pouch that would hold my gifts to my family and friends; essentially goodie-bags. However while sifting through the assortment, I happened to deliberately bag a few tepid ones and a couple of extremely eye-catchy pieces. The former lot, characteristically the lesser endowed ones, served the purpose for which they had been bought. They were these delightful little gift-bags that no one was partial to nor interested in, completely eclipsed by the main objects of allurement that lay within. As for the latter lot, which you see here in the picture, buying them was an act of pure self-indulgence, to cater to one of my considerable whims.
My quirk here is that I have an idiosyncratic penchant for anything colorful, bordering on the nutty. Anything that has an array of colors on it and serves to be a pleasing and harmonious blend to my eye is a definite addition to my shopping cart. I cannot get myself to part from such colorful gift bags or the likes. I buy random water paints even though the same colors can be achieved by mixing the ones I already possess. The bottles are disrobed by peeling off the stickers so that the colors appear bold (pun unintended). They are then organized in a meticulous manner; color-coded in the literal sense. I can only bring myself around to opening those bottles by assuaging my stingy sensibilities with scintillating visions of the form they would take on a canvas or a paper.
Thankfully this proclivity does not extend to my wardrobe. When it comes to picking my garb, I set aside my partiality for the vivid and fixate on being natty, dressed to the nines. Occasionally I let the fondness overshadow my better judgement and I find myself refreshing my closet with florals. But that's about where I draw the line.
Since I have now veered the crux of the write up from lost treasures to my fetish for colors in particular, this post shall probably do justice to the poem below.
Hear
The Hues Hum
A
rainbow is nature's illustration of looking on the brighter side,
A
symbol of optimism, a bridge on which hopes ride.
It comes
to light on the days that are dank and grey,
When
the sun peeps smilingly out of the clouds and lends a helping ray.
A monochromatic beam
of white light, all bleak and cold,
Enmeshes with
a droplet and metamorphoses to colors, seven-fold.
The
fusillade of colors build castles in the air fashioning a paradise,
Glumness
makes way for hope, love and happiness in every guise.
Each
of the seven colors has a story of it's own to serenade,
And
together they burst into a song that makes every woe in the world fade.
Violet
sings about the child in us, our locked away identity part,
It
also speaks of the mysterious, our affairs close to the heart.
Indigo
is a caring one filled with tenderness and sympathy,
The
sensitive being that it is, it cries out for peace and harmony.
Blue
is the stable one, smart, trustworthy and powerful,
It
keeps its calm during thunderstorms and never loses its cool.
Green
gratifies Mother Earth by being the lush and resplendent one,
It
restores nature's balance, at times keeps us away from the burning sun.
Yellow
spreads happiness, hope and cheer with its warmth and energy,
Its
optimism knows no bounds, it is the epitome of positive synergy.
Orange
talks about the things we are thirsty for, about youth and wealth,
It
also symbolizes longevity, endurance, a ripe old age and health.
Red,
being the messenger of love, is the one that takes a bow,
Filled
with passion, love conquers all, no matter who, where, when or how!
Together
do they come to remind us that of blessedness there is no dearth,
So
the next time you see a rainbow, be grateful, for there is heaven on earth.
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