The Black and White in Me

Ogling at the white colored pencil on my color box, I would find myself contemplating for hours as to why it was even included in the box set.

Gawping at the Rangoli (a symbol designed from a conglomerate of colors) during Tihar, the festival of lights, I would see myself musing on as to why the color black was never taken into consideration.

Observing the vibrant environment in Holi with bright colors have always hit on me. Scouring for fashionable dresses with my mom, I would discover myself pondering over why I would never don completely black and completely white dresses. Was there a stigma to certain colors hardwired into my brain? I set out on an expedition to find the answer. I would uncover the secret here, even if it was the last thing I did.

Growing up as the smallest child in the family, I felt of being little secluded from everything that was actually going inside my house. Whenever I would turn to my sister, I remember her ignoring everything I had to share. I found her busy with her own life. My voice never gave the feel of being heard. Considering myself as an extra little piece of the family less of any value, I used to consider myself being lost. I have the feel of being surrounded by darkness everywhere — no feel of any color around. The less important me would be in one corner having had my mind filled with bad aspects.

No happiness in building friendships led me to be a point, a mere speck, that lies outside the circumference, the periphery, of the circle. Today, when I remember those days, I feel of that as a dreadful nightmare. Black and white was all that was important to me at the moment. The colors black and white gave me the feel of loneliness akin as I did. The existence was so questionable, alike mine. I felt of my life more comparable to black and white colors as they both had existence, but were not preferred.

Yes, I relate myself to the black and white colors.

As in my growth, I started understanding the beauty of colors. As a child, I used to prefer those pinks and blues, and as the time passed I started looking over some dark colors. The colors are actually the phase of life. Colors know my situation of life. The importance of black and white made myself feel more comfortable on what I expected from life. Color is a reflection. It is something that gives away. Whatever I reflect will be my color and whatever I hold will not be mine. It is radiation. Then, I realized why black was considered the dull because it holds back everything. This influenced my life and how I look at things. When I give away it is always quality and that is the actual nature of existence. Color adds to the aura that I carry.

After all, when I looked over all of these aspects I felt of what importance of black and white are in life. Every trivial aspect is important. I have learnt a lot through colors as they have been one of the significant part of my life. They have helped me more than I could help myself. Black and white has made me brave enough to go into my sister’s room without any hesitation to share some of my stories. Black and white has made me realize she enjoys my talks.

Black and white has made me realize how loved I am.

It has made me feel that I am different as in person and should appreciate whatever circumstances come in life.

Black is my color. White is my color. Color defines me.

Never hold anything, radiate everything; for this is a part of existing.