An ode to Autumn

One of the things that I miss the most in Europe is color - Of course, splendid lush green landscapes in the country side, the Keukenhof gardens in netherlands, amazing hues of green, blue and turquoise that the waters in the atlantic and the mediterranean sea adorn are treat to the eyes. But when you are from India - colors are not a tourist attraction. They are a way of life, a standing proof of your personality and preferences.

Right from food to clothes to buildings to movie posters on walls to crackers on diwali - everthing, everywhere is splashed with colors. Watch a bustling saree shop in T.Nagar, the kitchens of a middle class household and their delicious dishes, the mehndi in a bride's palms and the bright pink suits of a bollywood super star, the flowers that my mom leaves at our doorstep on onam, her little garden in the backyard - Everything is filled with exuberant shades of pink, crimson red, orange, dark green, glowing blue - you name it.

And from there you enter the land of black and white - monochrome costumes, black-white-or-gray cars, identical flats with just a splash of red on the tiles, and an extremely unappealing cuisine served in equally uninteresting crockery (ever had food on a plantain leaf building walls to save the sambhar from slipping into the silky smooth table top of the marriage hall?). And for some reason, bright colors look slutty here - be it the fluorescent lights on shops' name plates (The sex shop outside gare du nord anyone?), the bright pink attires (that most often come in S or XXS sizes and a cigarrete between the lips) ....

Nature finally smiles on those thirsty and hungry for color with the outbreak of autumn - Of whatever I have read and remembered, autumn is always associated with pain, with dying trees and lifeless leaves, with footpaths filled with frigs and flowers that once blossomed with joy. However, I find it so extremely romantic - the rustle of the leaves under your feet, the shades of yellow matching so beautifully with the brown bark leaving little space for the green leaves that are hiding from inevitability. The lonely street lamp that doesn't glow and a park bench close by as if from out of a painting - and while you sit there and hold hands, a leaf falls from above as if sent from there to affirm the faith that the two share. The sun doesn't stare into your eye, the rain doesn't leave you soaking, the lands aren't barren yet, roads aren't wiped clean and uninterestingly professional - it's like this lock of hair that falls on her forehead and makes her look so human, feminine, vulnerable and beautiful. Carefully careless. Imperfect but so perfect.

It had just finished raining, the leaves on the roads still hold on to a few drops of rain while passing cycles break their marrow and spill them on the earth below. And just as the drops lost their lives, they sparkled for one last time as the street lamp glowed in their eyes. With a hot coffee leaving your palms warm, and you tucked under a cozy blanket, as the godfather trilogy's credits disappear in the screen ... you look out at the herd of trees and their falling leaves, at the glowing street lamp and at those crackling sounds and the trinkling cycle bells captured in the canvas - in that one fleeting moment - so many thought trains within your mind collide unto eachother and the debris splashes itself on the serenity of the moment outside and a silent emotional outburst sparkles in all colors - feelings that you cannot classify as joy and sorrow merge into an unspeakable emotion. Have you ever felt it? To call it hollowness would be dwarfing it from a pristine, profound three dimensional entity to a bland, uninteresting two dimensional caricature. I wouldn't do that - I would just wish you have been there as if being a part of something that's much bigger than what you are, as if watching all your pain and incompetence painted as a beautiful work of art - and you caught between the joy watching something so beautiful and sad at seeing your state so stark and dark.

You get out of your bed, put on your sandals and reach out for the world outside ... as the fresh wind kisses your face and the smell of mud still in the air, you stare at the horizon and walk towards it - You live.