Take out your colours. A sheet of paper. Now continue reading…
The first thing I remember drawing in my art class in kindergarten was a house between two trees, mountains in the background and a river flowing out of those mountains. A bright smiling sun beamed beside the clouds. And of course, a rainbow.
In the first grade I remember drawing ‘A Rainy Day’ scene. Lots of umbrellas and raincoats. Grey and black clouds in the top corner. Puddles of blue water splashing about. But of course, a rainbow dominated my skies.
From primary to early middle school my drawings defied science and no matter what season was portrayed in my art, you’d always find a rainbow lurking in them.
But then we learnt about refraction in physics. About meteorology in geography. Apparently, rainbows cannot exist everywhere. And frankly this reality is rather sad. In both traditional and modern culture rainbows have come to signify good fortune, hope and happiness. The child in me still jumps in joy every time I spot a rainbow. However, reality hit hard. The innocent happiness of childhood was replaced with the Lagrange’s theorem and other stuff like that. They say that these are going to be the busiest years of my life. And they weren’t so wrong. But dear reader, please never be so busy that you can’t stop for a minute and admire a rainbow if you see one. They’re so rare and so beautiful. And unlike my drawings they surely cannot exist every where.
Years after I had stopped drawing rainbows I was cleaning out my bookshelf, and an old painting fell out. A house. Two trees. Clouds. A bright smiling sun. And a rainbow! I felt a warm glow of happiness in me right then. I looked out of the window. Pitch black. No clouds. No sun. But that still couldn’t extinguish the rainbow inside.
Still reading this? What are you waiting for?
Go ahead and paint yourself a rainbow.
You deserve it.
A Rainbow Lover.