Which of the iridescent colour am I? The star,the sun, the rain,the moon,the land,the tree or the sky?
I want to sprinkle stardust on the ground, sometimes visible sometimes not to be found. Be within reach yet far, am I of the colour of that silver twinkling star??
I want to shine bright. set the sky aflame with the flicker of my light. Give life to those lifeless trees, run around the sky with clouds in a soft gentle breeze. play hide and seek with clouds for fun, am I of the colour of coppery light of the sun?
I want to fall on the ground, whisper to the earth in that faint sound. wash away all the sorrows and pain, am I of the colour of that blue drizzling rain?
I want to provide a smooth blanket to the earth, want to hold clouds and be the reason for rain's birth. fly way too high, am I of the colour of that metallic blue sky?
I want to see the plants come to life, see them lay green fingers on the land, through graceful dunes and golden sand, am I of the colour of this musty land?
I want to feel those maple leaves filled with autumn hues, those tiny little floating morning dews. die every year and yet look new, you know it can only be done by a few. hear all the stories that the little bird told me, am I of the colour of that magestic green tree?
I want to be one in the whole sky, every lover's apple of the eye. be full and the turn into nothingness soon, am I of the colour of the scarlet moon?
I came home at 2 tonight. My wife had passed out on the couch. A bottle of gin in her hand. Her gown bunched up at her chest. She wore no bra at nights. I was embarrassed and I couldn't reckon why. Wasn't she the woman I drove to ecstacy every night? Not anymore. With her addiction getting worse, I swear I didn't touch her in over three months. I came home late deliberately. The disgust over rode the guilt, in my defense.
I left my leather briefcase on the chair. Spilt milk had dried out into a powdery crust on the mahogany table. A packet of bread lay open, with a bottle of mixed fruit jam next to it. The lights were on, so was the television. There were ants lining up in a single file for their dinner. They had a buzzing fly for company.
I struggled to take off my shoes while still standing and almost stepped into piss. My daughter, oh my daughter. I almost forgot we had one. I hope she's okay. I tiptoed towards her room. It was dark. Her night lamp reflected stars all over the walls. Her cinderella bed was empty. I turned on the lights. She wasn't here. A wave of panic hit me.
I rushed towards the kitchen. The fridge door was open. And there lay my little princess - on the cold marble floor. A tub of empty yoghurt clutched in her little hands. I gave her a little peck on her cheek, careful not to wake her. She smelled like fresh strawberries. I carried her in my strong hands. She felt as light as a feather. I lay next to her in her warm bed and sang her the lullaby my mother would sing to me.
I woke up and checked my phone. The clock read 9.04am. My daughter was not in the bed. My thoughts shifted to Reva, my wife. I hoped she had sobered up. I walked up the hallway to the table. Breakfast was being served hot and piping. My daughter in two neat pigtails and her blue uniform looked adorable. Reva was impeccably dressed in her business suit. She showed no signs of any hangover. Just stiff shoulders and a poker face. The house looked immaculate as well, everything in its place. The pillows on the sofa were fluffed and magically there was no stain from last night's gin. Infact, there were even fresh lillies in the vase by the corner table.
I craved for a cup of coffee. My daughter reminded me to brush my teeth. She was laughing at me, telling me I was singing like a baby last night. I went inside the restroom to wash my face. My eyes looked blood shot and my hair disheveled. My face had a shadow to it and my head was being pounded by a hammer. I was still wearing last night's clothes and it smelled funny. I looked down to find salty stains on it. Nothing made sense until now when it all came down to an overwhelming realization. And I swore to myself, that I'm never getting wasted again.