Don’t give me your grays…
I crave for scarlet and violet and mauve and navy. My eyes are roving for deep splashes and resolute textures. It’s a call for an explosion of the light shattering upon the dark, to understand the colors all over again.
Don’t give me your doubts…
I want emotions – raw and expelling with intensity. I want to love fiercely and unconditionally, burn a green fire of jealousy, sink into purified hatred, burst like a bomb with euphoria. To covet the lucidity as clear as the glow of a blazing candle!
Don’t give me your prejudices…
I desire absolute persistence and coherence of conceptions. To strike the bull eye’s because there is no other possibility! And smash the plank into clean halves with a singular stroke because there is no room for the waste of idiosyncrasies.
Don’t give me your incompleteness…
I want you … one and whole. I want you selfishly without any compromise. Comprehensively to the last speck of your heart and soul. Down to the synchronized pulse of our thoughts and desires.
Unqualified. Undiluted. Untainted.
She wailed when they took her baby away – the one she had spent the last eight weeks nursing. Her perfect, happy child had become a favourite in no time. His happy laughs and beaming golden face drew everyone to him and why not! A bundle of sunshine he was!
The gentle poke he gave the big man was enough to bring a smile. She looked on unhappily as the man picked up her baby and cradled him. He whispered, “What do you think, little guy? Ready for your new home? Your new mommy is waiting to welcome us!” She couldn’t say a word and scream that he had no right to handle her baby. She had laboured for hours to give birth to him as she had with his brothers. She had fought with their father to keep her children safe and sound. She had never wanted her children to be separated. She had never wanted this.
One by one, she saw her children being taken away from her. Every time she shed tears with cries falling on deaf ears. She had worried endlessly about keeping her baby in check once he grew up to be the strong, determined man that he was showing promises of. With a sinking feeling she realized that her concern was futile as she wouldn’t be around to see him grow. Every time they came, she was barely spared a glance. Her broken legs meant she was of no value – she could not love as the others would. She looked down at her useless legs and strained to straighten them out. Every time she missed and fell on her sides. Every time she painfully made her way back to her bed. Forlorn, she whispered to herself “Why me?”
Tomorrow was different. No, they did not give her baby back. No, her legs did not straighten out. But she was helped to her feet and tucked into bed. She saw an old man with twinkling eyes at her side, gently stroking her head and comforting her. He looked at someone standing by the porch and said, “Her. I want her”. Her tail started wagging happily at those words and she yelped softly, “Why me?” The man smiled at her knowingly as he limped to the payment counter speaking the words that had never come her way before, “She’s perfect!”
My first foray into fiction 🙂 This was in response for mindlovemisery‘s prompt, “Why me?”
Tried to present two sides of it. Feedback appreciated 🙂