Why Orange? (Musings III)

by abubhaji

Why Orange? (Musings III)

She thinks I’m foolish coming out like this. The misunderstanding is mutual. She knows it too. It doesn’t stop her from reminding me and it doesn’t stop me either. It’s a dark path but I’ve seen darker still. There’s no flow yet. Maybe, I should keep walking…

Maybe, maybe if there were more poppies on the hillside? Closer to the grave. I’ve seen them drifting out, near the cliffs, wetting their appetite for danger. Cosmetics too; orange being the most confused of all earthly hues. It wants so badly to be the color of passion but the yellow that it’s born into won’t allow. If only yellow did not exist. We’d have more red, more passion. But, what good is passion without the Sun? I’ll have to ask her that. She’ll know.

There is no Sun, here, not this early. The poppies are all still draped in sleep. I won’t wake them. She thinks I am foolish to make this trip, climb this hill, knowing there’s nothing on the other side. I continue, without expectation. This is what I’ve learned; be yourself, but don’t be afraid to be someone else, if you’re able.

Today, I am someone else who is much stronger willed, more controlled, rational; unmoved by the misunderstanding and equal part, in heart; the uncompromising matador, Manolete, and self-appointed man of the hour, Quixote. Today, these men, fact and fiction, will do. If only they liked coffee, a warm cup to take the chill from their bones. I could use some.

The hilltop is as I remember it to be, out of place and time. The Sun must have been climbing with me. The poppies up here are reaching for the glow; their dew fallen, marks the ground where I’ve buried my muse. A misguided breeze finds its way over my collar and down my spine. She’s here. I can feel it. Gone, but not forgotten.

It’s as if I’m talking of ghosts, to a ghost.

“What makes you think she can hear you?” my Muse whispers.

“Sometimes, you are forced to believe,” Quixote replies.

“What makes you think she’ll care?” my Muse asks aloud.

“She doesn’t have to,” quips Manolete without moving his feet.