Colourblind
~~dedicated to the blogger whom i have lost in the blogworld
Red
Sitting besides the fire, nomad was listening to the fading songs of the distant caravan. As always, he decided not to join them further, and took his own path. It is going to be another long winter ahead. He has a liking towards winter... crackling of fire breaks his thoughts. It sounds familiar; the sound of flames burning the logs is drowning all other noises of surrounding. He is now intently gazing at the flames. He recognizes the sound now, it is the old forgotten language of nature. The wise ones had taught him how to pick it, and he learned the rest during those long trails in woods. It took him lot of time, and more logs, to fully comprehend it again.
"...look at me… as I engulf whatever comes in the way, I m red.. red that is used to break off the monotony, be red when you are in the dark alleys, and looking for that dwindling hope. I am Red that represents valour, red that embodies bravery, am the one that signals the Danger I am the rage, I am also the lust, sin and guilt, but then roses are red too. I am life, the vigour, I am fire that brightens up the sun, ohh yess I m the red that adores Satan…"
more crackling…
Looking at the dark silhouette of the hill, nomad was reminiscent of the different manifestations of red along his journey so far. He cherished red at times, he despised red at others, it’s too easy to drift off in the red and face unexpected . The adrenaline that can lead to anywhere. He throws the log at the flames, how hard it is to tame red, how easily it can go beyond reasons, and control and bring devastation, how easily red could walk off from consequence of its action, red does not care about after effects, red believes in action and stops there and thus how intimidating it is.