Red colour has always fascinated and appealed me. As far my reminiscences go, as a child I loved wearing red garments. I started riding on 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. Red is my weakness. Red is my strength. Red is my experiment. Red is my joy. Red is my vibrancy.

Red speaks volumes of hues of emotions. Red has its own language. Red 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 colours 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 “heavenly” early notice? At least I did not. I still do not believe. My Indian-American “handsome” surgeon thinks optimism pays in the long run. My illness has given me a new vision towards life. Everything that happens in life is meant to serve a purpose-good or bad. The purpose is destined.

Had I not come to California and fallen sick I wouldn’t have ever met Dr. Rehan Christopher. A charismatic guy. I have a long way to go with him on several dates! How can I give up hope of living so soon? I have to pick up many threads of conversations with him. After all he is the only one who deciphers my “MRI’s red REPORT” marks the best. I got to like him. I have had a weakness for red colour. Didn’t I tell?

When I was unaware about my span of life I indulged lavishly into procrastinations. Of late I want to make the best use of every micro-second of my life. Many a times, back at 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, forgetting that my breaths are counted. I did not know then, I love him. It dawned upon me suddenly. I don’t look forward to any reciprocation or recognition to my feeling. Life’s best things quite often happen at short notices at wrong timings. I thought a zillion times if I should open this Pandora’s Box and let my can of worms out!!! The final “yes” consent comes from the soul. After all what difference does it make? He will live the way he is living. I would have a peaceful living there in the other world. If I don’t tell him I will die with a burden.
I still firmly believe life is long. When, where, how and why, I know not now but I shall meet him again in this lifetime.

souMi mitra