Contrasts, alternatively titled ‘Moving on’
February 21, 2011 § 2 Comments
“It is the end.”
He remembered the sunny day outside his college room when he had read a crazy book on color therapy. It said something like concentrating your mind waves by thinking about a color could change the taste of something. So he told her how he had taken water in two separate glasses, concentrated on one, and checked and re-checked and found that this was a damn good way to make some guy have two glasses of water.
She had laughed with him them.
But now, her e-mail made no sense. They were used to fighting. All friends fight, all couples fight, all brothers and sisters fight, hell, anyone who cares about anyone else fights with them some time or the other. You make up then. That’s all there is to it. And now she had written in the e-mail that their friendship was over for good.
And he was afraid. Afraid because he knew she was rare – the kind of honest, crazy person who would do what she says – even if it is said over a fight, in anger. She had never said that in any previous fight. In his heart, he knew that something had changed, something was gone from him forever. But he would not admit defeat easily.
She was miles away, in another city, but he reached her. All strength left him as he talked to the granite statue. He was crying, and her face showed no emotion. He stuttered, and felt so weak he asked her to wait for a moment while he got a bottle of water for himself. He couldn’t stop his tears, and clung to a wired fence to stay upright. The bottle of water fell from his hands twice. She did not move.
He has moved on.
About the pic: Is is taken from the Museum of Czech Cubism in Prague. This was a cubist sculpture. I do not understand cubism either.