Once upon a time, there was a crazy child called Carol. 29 years of age, but still a very crazy child. She liked mixes of colors so much—colors fused together, mixed together or intertwined together, overlapping and making beautiful mixes but without any color losing its identity; losing its value and appearance; losing its idiosyncrasy; its core and heart; what it represented or symbolized. She liked all colors. Yet there was one color of all those colors that she loved extensively and the most. It was pink; a color to speak for itself; to say the whole story and reflect itself (its quiet, peaceful heart and soul) without any word. No need for her to speak. It was not that she did not like words. Indeed, she did. It was that she liked clear self-expression and pure, transparent soul expression and self-reflection more. It is an independent color that has some kind of beautiful, clear transparency. She liked mystery to an extent, but not the bad one. She liked clarity much more. So, this color could do it all — reflect it all. And what a beauty was really reflected from the inside to the outside. It reflected an aura of love, stability and peace — all horizons of peace; soul, heart and mind coming to an aura of beautiful peace. Wherever there was this lovely, quiet color, her eyes were. It attracted her attention. She liked pink and liked getting pink things. Whenever she went shopping for a dress, she chose a pink one. Her mother thought: “Well, she does not know how to behave or choose well. She always chooses this simple color instead of a more elegant, sophisticated, supreme, solemn color. It is somehow inferior to other colors. Why is she so crazy about it? Her choices will always be as poor and inferior as the choice of this color”. Anyway, just as usual, Carol did not care and did not change her mind; though she had to take her mother’s words into some consideration. To her, pink was so elegant, beautiful and, truly and honestly solemn and sophisticated in itself. She had her own eyes. And to some extent, she behaved, acted and chose the way she wanted. By time, she kept trying to buy or steal pink stuff, and then started actually buying and stealing pink things — showing its beauty and how much happiness it endowed until the time her mother and other members gave some respect and value to it; at least because of her crazy deeds and traits. She made a lot of crazy acts for the sake of and because of that color. Her sister Hanna suffered a lot because of this trait of Carol. All Hanna’s pink clothes and things were taken by Carol, or otherwise in some instances, in which Hanna did not consent to give these things willingly, they disappeared mysteriousl. Anyway, when such a thing happened, Hanna did not even need to think about where her pink properties were. They had absolutely been “borrowed” for a long time that may last forever by crazy Carol. Whenever Carol had choices, she took pink into great consideration, even in case of simple choices. For example, even when offered colorful chocolate pills, she took the whole amount of chocolate pills to choose the pink and blue ones. She cherished having the pink ones, looked at them for some time and then ate them. She did not have that love for chocolate; for she only loved white chocolate, but what she cherished was the pink color of those chocolate pills — pink and blue. It gave meaning even to things she was not interested in. How crazy she was! She also kept looking for the pink color wherever she went. A week ago, she bought a mobile charger. It was white. There were only black and white ones at the store she bought it from. Just one day later, she went with Hanna and her husband, John, to a shop. Her eyes fell instantly on the pink color— there was a beautiful pink mobile charger. To add to its beautiful color, the charger had also a smiling face on it that would keep flashing continuously when plugged in. But she had just bought a charger the day before. So, Hanna, not Carol, bought this pink charger; she needed one. “Oh NO! Hanna. You cannot do this
to me. You cannot. Please! I want that thing. It is calling for me… Listen! I will be good and exchange my white charger with your pink one. This is pretty fair,” said Carol. “Nooooo Carol. No we won’t. Look at my pink mobile charger! It also makes smiles when plugged in. I won’t,” replied Hanna, trying to tease Carol. “PLEASE, Hanna. John will make so many smiles for you instead of that charger. Won’t you John? John’s smile is much more beautiful,” Carol said, trying to convince them of “the obligatory, inevitable bargain of exchange. They laughed a lot. Hanna liked to see Carol in that crazy state; just for fun. She knew that Carol would certainly try relentlessly to get that pink charger until she achieved her pinky goal, and John laughed, knowing that she would eventually take what she wanted. “What is it about a pink thing? What is the difference between a white and a pink charger? Don’t they do the same job? Women are something else”, he thought. Yet, he knew that this simple thing gave her happiness and that was
the important thing about the whole issue. Hanna hid the pink charger, but Carol kept nagging and did not let her sister sleep till she got it. Hanna surrendered at last and raised the white flag, or, maybe we should say, the pink flag. When Carol went to bed, she plugged in her mobile phone and spent a long time gazing at this pink thing making pink smiles. She smiled with it. Her brother in law suggested a possible response to Carol’s love of pink. He suggested buying her some pink glasses so that she sees the whole world in pink, which shall suit her. She would be happy and satisfied this way and won’t need to worry about not getting pink objects anymore. She will have it all in pink, he thought. However Carol did not support that suggestion. Yes, she loved pink, but how would she recognize the pink color and how would it have it’s own value if there were no other colors left! Don’t colors get their value through their idiosyncrasies; through some kind of differentiation,contrast or comparison with other colors? She would always like to see all colors. She has come to accept all the colors destiny has given her. She has lately accepted and recognized the beauty of colors that were not so likable to her. It is destiny that makes her go through this; to try something different from what she loves; try colors that she has previously ran away from or that she would not have imagined to have or like before. It is the work of destiny, for her. Now, colors have values different from the ones they had in the past; at least they have more acceptance by her. Now, she accepts and appreciates the variety of colors more, but what shall always be there and never change is her love for pink; there is a sacred, important place she has given to pink in her heart. It is what her heart falls for; where it finds so much love and peace, where she recognizes special honesty and truth. It is where she finds herself and perceives a resort. It is where she
finds it all; the beauty of the whole world in just one simple, transparent, pure, lovely color.
Every Heart Has a Story