And apparently when you don’t kill yourself, you end up literally in the pink of health.
To many people’s great chagrin I’m sure, I aborted my black suicide plot.
Sorry. Peoples, Bhumika populates this planet awhile longer. Somehow the act just didn’t feel right even if the thoughts felt oh so good and justified.
There were just too many voices in my head and they all sounded fun and sparkling and somehow red and happy. So then I went out and got drunk on bottles and bottles of red red wine with family for three consecutive days.
I saw the jacarandas bloom on the streets of Bangalore and figured that life will now take a turn for the better. And that was the only purple I let myself get emotional over.
Bangalore is such a pretty place despite the attacks on western-clothing-clad women. And the assholes go do this just when I’ve lost weight and look fairly decent in western clothing. Saffron sonsofbitches. How I will feel in my heart!
Then, I realised something that shocks, befuddles me. I no longer dislike pink. And that is such a loaded statement I can’t tell you. Ladies of my life, yes, even that pink.
My mind has mutated. The great tragedy of my life has greatly altered my choice of colours.
And suddenly pink is my new obsession.
People who know me if I tell you, I bought a polka dotted top in pink you will know the severity of this recent malaise of mine. Oh yes, when I wear it I look like a brash, bold, buxom American woman who’ll annoy the hell out of the sales people and other shoppers at a supermarket.
Incidentally, the only person I want to annoy is a six year old smug-faced German girl. Can someone please teach peachy young kids some goddamned manners? This child in question has a crush on one of my latest lovers and acted oh so prissy and smug. But I will forgive her because of the newly acquired grayness of my soul. I’m trying not to see the blues deepen to indigo and fade to black. In every possible context.
My women love me, my boys will soon be okay. Life will show itself sunny, yellow side up. So what’s to complain? And I am learning Spanish second hand. So I deduce I am very es amoroso.
Applause, applause. The queen returns in her ermine and jewel pink tones!