HUES

 ‘Yellow’ - Coldplay

i’m not like other boys, i can tell the difference between lilac and lavender.

in fact, i love lavender, i like it more than rosé or blue. 

where others see devastated lands, i revel in the aspirations and splendour of what once stood, because anything beyond that hurts me somewhere deep within, an unnecessary relatability. i live to write, and yet at times, i don’t deem myself worthy of the words which leave my fingers, as though they’ve been a foreign element since their very inception.

all my life, i’ve adhered to the rules of grammar, of punctuation even when i found them unnecessary because of an inherent ability to deviate from them. today i realise that i have a choice and i no longer wish to. 

it is not the abandonment of generality that defines me, it extends to the frigid isolation of and from all that is generic, a region where all my ventures to be like others fail, and while i myself might be flailing, as people might perceive me to be, i do so with an unhindered aberration and a cocky self-assurance of sticking to what i am, at my core. but i realise- none of it is my fault, its not even because of how or what i am. the onus lies entirely on what humanity, as a mass of guilt has solidified into.

amidst this shit-storm which i seem to be surviving through willingly, on the surface, there seems to be nothing keeping me alive. i see no pleasure, and what i desire disintegrates to a wish. i pretend and orchestrate and obstinately organise but all my efforts fall short in face of the intricately veinous chokes of the toxicity that envelops me, and from which i cannot seem to find refuge.

and yet here i am writing this, certainly not un-alive: because of my obsessions.

monochrome and black, the absolute absence of life look pleasant to me. i curse myself a little when i realise that they are another inkling of the colonial mindset, an avid hate against the colours of all which they subjugated. but i like the simplicity and uniformity. i like they way all of it just turns dark, camouflaging into morphed shadows, their own existence nothing but a platform for the more important, the visceral- white. grey doesn’t serve as well as black because of its slight resistance in sacrificing all of its originality just to let the scarcer quantity, what is meant to be, stand out. and yet, if i were the background, i would be so radiant that nothing could pierce my veil. i would be useless, but with the satisfaction of being the brightest around.

they say the world is run by kindness, but kindness is a sober way of saying how-long-can-you-put-up-with-shit.

my OCD compels me to organise, its a scheme from which i cannot opt out no matter how draining it is for me.

i fantasise often. people preach against it, they call it escapism, and i LOVE that terminology. i wish it had been as untethering as it sounds. maybe it once was! but today, it is just flashes and hazes of unreal possibilities, because i’ve come to associate too much of logic with everything (and yet i cannot use this goddamned brain superlatively when i would like to). the possibilities are coloured in yellow and blue, sometimes magenta. they coerce an evocation- “kaash” (i wish). they call to me, with a genuine plea, for i like the things i like in a way that nobody else could, let alone appreciate them the way i do. others claim to love the same, but i know, that i’m too different from them, for them to even comprehend. my love transgresses into unhealthy obsessions, and that obsession manifests through a possessive urge.

i read fiction, i associate my life with it. i question the need of life if everything cannot be perfect, so i associate a perfect life with an impeccable aesthetic sense. i wage a war on all that is out of order, while i protrude from the surface like a black hole near a sun, juxtaposed against what i wish for all else to be. and justifiably so, i engage in a world that’s unattainable within the laws of our own, a secretive hustle to actively avoid all that contains me, and i wait, for the day i finally do seep through the mesh to the other side, hoping that it is the opposite of what i am immersed in fervently.