Life In Abstract

Every time I start believing that I have finally shaped a direction towards my desired future life, I am awakened by a bolt from the blue. Mostly this bolt comes in the disguise of a perfect man (read Dream guy) and the jolt in the form of a pain in the heart.

Now how many of you girls or women alike feel this is true? From personal as well as tales from friends’ or acquaintances’ experiences, I can safely assume that there exists a sizable community that identifies with the event described in the first paragraph. Another important aspect that defines this demography is the fact that most members are working girls residing in big cities with many sustaining alone.

I would not claim to understand art but I do appreciate beauty and colours of a painting. Whatever little I understand about the abstract paintings, I am able to find the co-relation between such art and our ‘girly’ experience.

We think we have turned into mature adults who have finally grown to handle the reins of their own lives. After all, we have our dream jobs, living in our dream city all alone and able to afford whatever our hearts desire. We are 'smart'. Except we forget a few facts – we are women and our heart’s desire is unlimited.

As in a painting, the canvas of our lives has a basic colour, mostly a solid rosy hue. Then comes the abstract hues whose start and end points can’t be traced. There is confusion. Yet the painting emerges beautiful. But the confusion encompasses the heartburn.

We meet the irresistible Devil. Our ‘woman’s instinct’ warns us. Yet we go ahead, believing ‘He is the One’. Not even halfway, we realize the folly. Still we continue with a naïve attitude, hoping he will turn into the perfect one, calculating and analyzing his every move. We know it very well that he will never commit, in fact, he is not even considering. Curiously, even we are sure this is not the ‘Mills & Boon” romance that has been inked in our hearts and minds since adolescence. Despite being a competitive force on professional front, we strangely behave like a lost puppy in our personal lives, proving the old adage that we are the emotionally weaker sex.

We realize that everything should be over before getting hurt. But we keep on fighting for something which does not exist. And then comes the rude awakening and ‘the fight’. Without even surrendering our hearts, we experience heartbreak. First we cherish the few cozy moments of togetherness, then find solace in chick books or flicks and rock music, and then think really evil thoughts about without doing anything about it. Life, gradually, moves on.

The painting is now complete with the addition of the dark hues which rises like smoke above the basic rosy colours.