Wednesday, 7 January 2009

All the Colours of the Rainbow

- collective noun. A group of persons sharing common ancestry.

After all the social parametres built around this concept, I honestly thought that the dictionary definition would hold a little more heart. Not that I am complaining, considering it works perfectly with my perception of the word.

My family consists of six people.

In reality, I have soo much family I haven't even had the pleasure(?) of meeting them, but to me that's not really 'family'. A cousin of mine recently had a wedding which, after a very tried and tested time, bought my 'family' together with the 'family' my mother once knew. This could have gone either of two ways, but considering we were only invited a week before the actual event while everyone else, most of whom were not even blood-related, were invited over 3 months ago I was a little bit skeptical.

To cut a long story short, I could not wait for that wedding to end. Unfortunately as it was an Indian wedding, the festivities went on for a very very long time -I'm talking days-. However, I only attended the wedding and that was more than enough.

My point is that family comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes, but the main thing that it offers is support. No one can claim the benefits of a family member if they don't put in the hard yards. I am a strong advocate of the family unit and will give credit, only where credit is due. So there are about 8 cousins who live approximately half an hour from me, and yet they couldn't feel further away...

Nevertheless, the above, which was taken by a cousin -like I said I give credit where credit's due- is a beautiful photo:

The pretty one in the sun-burnt orange is my mum. And she should know that one of me is worth so much more than any of those people have (or are willing) to give.

Maybe all the pretty colours are to distract you from what's really happening.

Your eyes are just so crazy in love (calling Beyonce) with the loud visual aesthetics that your ears can't hear what's really going on. And then like a rainbow you find out that it doesn't hold any truth to it. It was all just a story made up to agree with how things are supposed to be.

Just a thought.

Disclaimer: It's tagged under Paris Hilton cause it's all as fake as she is.

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I am more than prone to monologues; however, this is solely due to the manner in which they compliment a witty anecdote and their ability to resemble concrete evidence when it is so obviously lacking. I often wish I could emulate that aloof character who coolly stands in the corner smiling mysteriously as if she has a secret. However, I fear resisting the temptation to involve myself in other people’s conflicts and responding through body language rather than verbose banter may come across as contrived and arrogant. And, I am not willing to take that chance.

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