She delved into her conscious mind. Her subconscious mind had a bleak perception of her place in the world. Standing at an art gallery, looking at the painting, all she thought was,” If only I could categorize every person in the world with the different colours, their shades and textures.”
People are complex. Even as a single entity, a person is anything but simple. If there were enough colours to attribute to every individual, many would lie in areas where one colour was transitioning to the other in the painting.
Unfortunately, it would have been a simpler world if everyone knew how to map themselves in the spectrum of colours! And who among us is at the brink of transitioning from a dark and opaque colour to a completely opposite light and transparent one.
She saw every person exactly that way. That was her “gift”. What the artist may have envisioned to express on a canvas, she could do with people but on a much grander scale. Ironically, even though each of us yearn to know our place in the grander scheme of things, most of us cringe at the idea of being labelled into a category that limits us to just that much.
“What do you derive from the painting?” A voice by the side. She turned.
A woman in her 60’s had walked over to her. She told her enough to answer the question, eliminating the parts she couldn’t divulge; that being her “gift”. They talked at length for quite a while on topics ranging from human minds to politics & the tasteless nitty gritty of it. She always knew who was what and what made them so, as she did with the lady talking to her, who was surprisingly fit considering her age. Every time she addressed her in a conversation, her vision seemed to be encapsulating far more than just her. That gave her an unsettling feeling about the lady. One she couldn’t explain.
Call it spur of the moment but this made her decide to reveal her “gift”. It was not out of a sense of warm affection, which she certainly did not feel for the lady, but as a way of shaking her up and making her realize her insignificance in the world. For a 60 year old woman such a realization could be deadly or even at times, a “deathly” one. If not communicated with care, it could push her subconscious to the brink where the only end is of life itself. Only she could do that to almost anyone in the world; which is why she stayed away from people for most part of her life. The fear of her flawed self mischievously urged her to use her “gift” as she pleased.
This was that moment and the lady her stimulus. It was necessary for her that the lady stared directly into her eyes as she talked. Not just look but see, which to her annoyance, the lady seemed incapable of. She knew what she had to do, she didn’t care anyway. She went quiet in the middle of the conversation, pretending to be inanimate within a span of 5 seconds. The old lady, instead of trying to get a response, for which she’d have to direct all her attention to her eyes, ruined all plans as she kept staring at the painting. She looked at the colours in the painting like she could taste them. Then she looked into her eyes, exactly the way she wanted, smiled warmly and exclaimed, “Things I create can’t destroy me. If they do attempt, in their innocence, thinking they can attempt, they experience self-destruction of a sort which cannot be simplified by mere death”. She turned and left.
She knew what just happened. In choosing to use her gift as she pleased, she got reminded of where in the spectrum of colours she lied. Also, what would the consequences be if she dared to outreach. Now she knew why people hated being tied down to a label. If only she had known sooner…!