Thursday, March 26, 2020

That speaks to you.....


Language and words are such a powerful medium. Actually, they are skills that are supposed to set human beings apart from the rest of the species. Super power of sorts- huh? Undoubtedly. But what about the things that seem to speak to us, their own language and conversation without having an alphabet or a vocabulary - heck, what if they don't even have mouths and limbs to begin with, to talk or even to gesticulate but nevertheless, they freeze you in your tracks and download bytes of communication directly into your senses and the brain? Color does that sort of connect with me, and nature does too and then the flora and fauna though not in that order. But I'll stick to 'color' for now and ponder about my special bond with it. 

I was four, when my paternal aunt got married. I remember of all the thing, the color of the burfi that was made for the wedding favors. Back in the 80s, things were done at home, there weren't fancy caterers and event managers - so I remember these burfis being assembled by a team of hired cooks in our expansive back yard, setting up  makeshift stoves by the curry leaf tree that was in Kingkong proportions. These sweetmeats were made in pistachio green and rose pink layered with an off white piece on top. Everyone was probably busy in their world orchestrating the wedding and I only remember my awe for the said piece of confection, my senses devouring them just with the sight, uninterrupted. I don't remember if my little brain was doing a commentary, actually, i don't think my brain ever does it when I go in observant mode - But back on track, my second specimen of awe was just around the corner - As my aunt got ready for the wedding, I spotted a case of the most eye popping colors in her friend's hand - they were eye shadows perhaps. I didn't have the confidence or the attitude to approach and ask for another dekko but that was the second of its kind, that made an imprint of communication in my tiny brain. And little did I know, that my awe was just about to be multiplied in leaps and bounds as I age and spot color all around me.

Shortly down the timeline, a guest that visited, my father's cousin, brought us girls some gifts. Trinkets and a case of liquid kumkum in assorted colors, filled in mini bottles that were attached to a mini disk with a transparent lid. The case became my best friend for ages. Just gaping at that amazing array of color display kept me engaged for hours. Talk about the weirdness, or don't talk about it. It would become endless :-) And that's why I am probably blogging about it, the matter in conjunction to this topic is almost endless and the block is going to be busted, and how!!

Then there were crayons, color pencils, sketch pens, water color cakes - I would say these were my soulmates then, these are my soulmates now. These were my coping mechanisms of growing up and discovering life, these were props that contributed to my growth as much as my upbringing or education did.  I don't lose a single opportunity to buy stationery, even today, be it any of these or construction papers, pencil cases, gel pens etc, and thank God I have two kids  and a hobby for the pretext of these purchases. If they are colorful,  I can hear them screaming their voices hoarse to grab my attention - and little do they know that they don't need to do that. They have me at a sighting - even 'hello' is optional ;)

And all this frenzy for color isn't even the tip of the iceberg. Somewhere in between my toddler years and late teens, I was introduced to this wonderful color cosmetic named Nail polish and it became my crack for life. I keep on saying this that what we love as kids will remain with us forever - if I am to have the good fortune of reaching old age, I vow to leave the greys as they are and might not do much with my creepy skin but I somehow envision myself buying nail polish every time I go out shopping. My fingers would probably wrinkle, my nails would discolor but I'd hold these bottles in my sinewy hand and have a moment of nirvana. That much I am sure of - God should be kind and grant me a reasonably long life. That's all :)

I am not vain much - and I don't mean to say vanity is a bad thing. It is actually a very lovely thing. The more I see colorfully clad, elaborately decorated women around me, the more I smile. In fact, in every party, as much as I fear crowds, my sensory faculties have a party of their own, observing the rich brocades and hues, the sparkly jewel tones over smokey eyes and the whiff of fragrances that linger around in the air. That's probably why I find it hard to communicate in a group of people - as these colors and textures are screaming to me in their own language and my tongue gets tied trying to sort the cross connections of speech. I am frugal in my spending habits but when it comes to a bottle of polish in a color that I love, I look for no pretexts, occasions or reasons to buy it - Away it is whisked into my humble collection of dozens of polish promising me moments of utter joy, just by looking at their depth of color and being lost in that saturation. A few years ago, the spousal unit hit the nail on the head for my birthday and got me nail polish. I felt so understood that year and was grinning ear to ear all the day.  Yeah, gifting is about connecting and so is language...whether it is this banter I type out, without a filter, or the bond I feel with something as trivial as a bottle of nail paint. Give me a connect, and I am a slave for life. A good, willing and happy one at that.

Pictured - OPI assortment, lifted from their Insta feed.

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