It’s just another agonising, hot afternoon. I sit there under the fan, yawning constantly, as I struggle to keep my eyes open. I think about how torturous it is not being able to sleep when you’re extremely sleepy, and how it could easily be the worst feeling ever. To make matters worse, I am surrounded by about a dozen kids, each noisier than the previous one. Having somewhat controlled the chaos by giving them colouring sheets, I am rather pleased with myself, and focus on dozing off without anyone noticing. Yeah, right! You can never sneak in the precious forty winks you’re craving when you have kids around you. So, I’m forced to stay awake, be nice to the kids and encourage their silly questions, while simultaneously pretending to be in awe of their exceptional colouring skills. (I swear I colour better – I’m careful to stay within the lines!)
While I continue to watch them colour, my mind drifts off to the times I was a kid; when I looked forward to colouring only because I was so eager to add colour to that dull page.
What a wonderful invention colouring is! How it brightens up a mere, dull piece of paper; how it can change the interpretation of a picture…
And then I think of the bigger picture: LIFE.
Life is like that dull piece of paper — just a gift given to us. Crayons represent memories/people in our life that we allow to leave an impact upon us. How we choose to make that paper look is up to us. We can fill it up entirely with a variety of colours, or just a few; we can also choose to not fill it up at all; what matters is, at the end of it, what would you want that dull page to look like?
Heck, I’m no artist, but I’d definitely want a colourful page – one that would brighten up my own, and others’ lives, just by the look of it.