Purple

Purple sat on the stairs and stared at the little bit of the sky, that showed itself from between the branches of the gulmohar, one afternoon. She pulled the hem of her skirt to cover her knees and sat pretty apparently unperturbed. Only her mind was traversing forth in time and again  back into the present. Purple wanted to be freed, like she yearned for the freedom of a firefly that drones around in a dark vast night. She used to stare down the edge of a mountain and imagine what a free fall would feel like. She wondered what would it be like to walk by the sea, the foam receding from her feet, all alone in mighty midnights. Purple passed away all her time wondering if such dreams would ever make a transit into reality.

Years later, Purple had become a bright young woman. Apparently, she had. Now she had all the freedom she ever had ever wanted. She walked by the sea, alone. Splashed colors on the whitewashed walls that had so caged her earlier. She had the privilege to choose her own companion, and dump them at her liberty. She spent herself living her life her own way, on her own terms. Without the slightest compromise. And so it went on for sometime.

But after a few years, Purple developed a suicidal tendency. She wanted to be possessed by someone. She wanted to be caged again. She was so overfed with freedom that she wanted someone to come into her life and draw the lines she would never cross. Purple wished she could go back to that afternoon, and look up through the gulmohar branches, at the sky and wonder how much of life was yet to be felt. She wanted to feel like a virgin again.

Only, she couldn't/