Consistency is the word…

It was a pleasant surprise to know that people read what I write here. That gives me a hope that I can probably make a mark someday as a writer. But in every creative profession, there are accolades and there is criticism. And constructive criticism can indeed be beneficial to honing the skills.

One such reader came up to me today and said that though my pieces were interesting, one major factor which was lacking was consistency of thoughts and lines. Honest opinions are always welcome so I am grateful. Going by the feedback, let me now address the issue of consistency.

The human mind is a strange thing. It can go to unfathomable depths of imagination and then can spring back to being abhorrently shallow in a split second. That is how rapidly this amazing organ can fluctuate. Hence, to keep the mind focused and consistent is a Herculean task.

That is what it is all about, actually. Consistency is the name of the game. As we grow older, the level of consistency and the ability to focus increases up to a certain age and after it has reached the crescendo, the process of regression beings. Consistency is something that comes naturally to some while for the restless people like me, it is a laborious effort. But again, the profession that I am in demands this consistency because the readers’ thoughts are in a certain flow while reading and sudden drops and rises in levels of intensity might not really be a welcome experience.

My mind sometimes seems to me like a wild untamed beast which will resist any attempt to put a leash on it. And it is that very leash which forms a trademark for accomplished writers. Hence, it is not a matter of choice but compulsion. Besides, it lends a certain structure which keeps everything in line. The key is to curtail the fluctuation and weave the thoughts to form a fabric with no loose ends. Now that I know it, hope I can work on it. In the meanwhile, as I said, genuine and constructive suggestions are welcome.

Adios.

Dreams unlimited

I just woke up with a start because I dreamt of my little t and that is the reason I am writing this right now.

I was just wondering…thinking about dreams. All of us dream. Some, while awake, some, while asleep and some…all the time. Nevertheless, we all dream. Unspoken emotions, unfulfilled desires, unaccomplished aspirations…they all form a part of our dreams. Some we forget we even saw, some we remember for a while and some (very few, though) we remember for a lifetime.

Then again, there are ones we choose to forget and try to ignore, lest they awaken some forbidden desires. Sweet dreams and nightmares form a part of our lives from the cradle to the grave. Mostly, the incidents in the day inspire the dreams that we see while asleep. Then again, there are in the dreamland while they are wide awake! To add to the complications, people have also mastered the art of interpreting the meaning of dreams. How true or close are the interpretations, nobody knows. But people claim that every dream has a meaning. Now…little t once told me that she had dreamt of a cockroach chasing her through unknown alleys and roads. Will someone explain to me what on earth was that supposed to mean?? I too have had innumerable dreams which will need some whacko psyched out specimen of the species homo-sapiens to decipher!

The human mind is an eccentric genius in itself. It has a ceaseless capacity to imagine and generate alternate realities. And even more surprising is the capacity of the subconscious mind to maneuver and manipulate the conscious mind. Like right now…
I mean whatever I have written in this piece so far and whatever is about to be written might sound like absolute gibberish to anyone who is interested enough in reading this but right now…honestly…I am half asleep. So if you find any spelling errors, you’re conveniently supposed to ignore it and read on. Ok? Good.
I mean, what else do you expect at 5 in the freaking morning?!

People smile while dreaming, they shriek and some of them even talk, (Christ! It reminds me of my ex roommate who spoke incoherent trash more while asleep than when he was wide awake!) while to the world, they are blissfully asleep. Now, THAT is eerie. And someone told me ghosts are strange! Yeah…right!

Dreams float like the cottony clouds in the mind space till they either rain or they move on. Countless songs of various genres have been inspired completely by dreams!

Ok…I will have to end this piece here…
Thank you for having read this fully. Now, I am feeling sleepy so I shall tell you more when I am a little more awake than I am right now. Meanwhile, may you have sweet dreams. Amen.

Adios.

Love spells

(To little t, who makes a lot of difference.)


Take a red rose. Wrap in with a green cotton cloth and take the name of the person you love fifty times. Then put this wrapped up rose under your pillow and keep it there for a fortnight. The person you love will come into your life.

Take a maple leaf (how on earth will I find a maple leaf in this country?!), write the name of the person you love on it and set it on fire. Chant the name of the person love all the while. Rub the ash over his/her photograph. Your love life will get rolling.

Just a couple of examples of such abundant “love spells” one may find on the internet and in books which are readily available. How much do they work? That’s a question I guess most of us will not have an answer to. I mean, logically, it seems so funny that in the 21st century, people still believe in love spells…but then again…when has anyone in love ever believed in logic in the first place?!

Though, one thing is certain…it definitely fuels a person’s dream. That’s a reason why I guess people still try it. I mean…think of it…if I know that I am in love and the person I am in love with, doesn’t want to have any romance in her life, then there I sweet nothing I can do about it besides tell her, do things to prove it and wait! But these love spells pretend to give me the power to get into her mind for a while and change her perception about life, about love and most importantly…about us! By tickling one’s imagination, it gives one an illusion that one can get into the mind of the person he/she loves and be a turbine to propel his/her emotions towards oneself. In spite of all skepticism about its effectiveness, somewhere one wants to believe it works. Because that person means so much that one is ready to do anything to make it work. I have experienced it myself about little t (no, I shall not tell you who little t is because she will understand it when she reads this!).

But at the end one realizes it is crazy. Yes, that is what it is in a nutshell. Crazy. They don’t work. These spells make business by selling hope. That’s what they do. Life survives on hope and so does this. These spells are ubiquitous and nobody wants to believe the fact that they are useless because of hope. Isn’t it strange how we sometimes have faith in such things in spite of all the science around us?! Hmmm…

And if anybody can give me one freaking spell that works then I shall be grateful to the person eternally. C’mon…show me it works. And if you can’t then shut up and sit down (well…you can stand too!). All that’s there are you, your loved one and your capacity to win that person over. Period. Life is no super human story or fairy tale where things happen by themselves. One has to make them happen. What do you say? Though, I secretly (now the secret is open, though) I hope that there is at least one spell that works for Heaven’s sake!

With that hope…now I end because I have to dream for her now. Sorry…dream time is exclusively for her. No visitors allowed. Meanwhile, go see if you discover any spell that works.

Sheesh…some outburst this was! Sometimes, emotions just force themselves out in words. Sorry if it wasn’t interesting. It wasn’t meant to be. I will try making it more interesting to read next time because right now I am writing it for myself. All the best with the hunt though.
See you later everyone (who’s reading this)!

Adios.

White lies and half truths

In the world, there are three kinds of facts. The usual black, white and grey.

Let me start with the first one. It is called the truth and it dwells on the extreme white end of the spectrum. It is all about presenting facts without any changes. Though the easiest to remember, sometimes it gets a little drab because it does not add any spice to life. And hence, very few people across the world stick to it.

Then again, on the other end of the spectrum, the black end, are lies. Complete fabrications coming to play. Lying (like most other things which are black) is interesting because it gives an outlet to fragments of creativity which inhabit your system. But as wise people will tell you, it is not a good habit to lie because it destroys your ability to be truthful.

Somewhere between these two extremes, in the grey area, lies what we call “white lies” or “half truth”. When on one hand complete truth sounds angelic and divine and outright lies sound devilish and bad, “white lies” sound human. That is one reason I guess we humans relate to it so effortlessly. Now, the question is what on earth are “white lies”?
It is the perfect genetic hybrid between truth and a lie. It is fascinating, interesting and creative and gets much closer to complete truth than a lie ever can! It is an art. An art that reaches perfection only with constant practice. Just “white lies” are different and “white lies” with finesse is a totally different ball game. They are fondly referred to as HALF TRUTH. That name sounds so much nicer and suddenly adds a degree of credibility and legitimacy to it. But essentially, they are both the same!

For the benefit of the people who are not really able to comprehend what I am rambling on about, let me give you an example…
If my mom calls me at one in the night and asks me if I am home, I may say yes. But that essentially does not mean I am at my place! I may even be at my friend’s place…which is also someone's home! See?? THAT is the difference. And that statement was an example. It is NOT to be taken literally.

The best part is…one always can come up with a logical defence for “white lies”! It is foolproof!
Over the years, I have known many people who excel at the art of getting away with “white lies”. Trust me, they are masters of this fine art. Though I have to agree, that sometimes, it is essential. Coming to think of it, I as an individual do not really have much choice. I have to be fluent with this art because it is my bread and butter (and jam, sausages, coffee and biscuits too!). I mean, if I do not convince the consumers then I will starve. That maybe another reason why I am defending “white lies” so much. Another reason is that this particular brand of lies adds to a person’s creativity. It titillates the mind and helps one’s imagination expand manifold.

Whatever written and read, I guess it is the best to be at the middle of the spectrum instead of either ends because being in the grey area ensures that there is a buffer on both sides. All of you who have successfully tried your hand at this art will agree with me in all probability. In retrospect, I think “white lies” have sometimes really helped me get away by the skin of my teeth!
And partly, as I just said a while ago, it is professional.

Go on…indulge. But do so carefully lest you step on the wrong side of the line. Walk the line if you wish to but be cautious so you do not topple!

Adios.

linguistic limitations...

(With due credits to my Little T for being my ubiquitous inspiration. Love you baby!)

It is said that humans in the Stone Age faced difficulties expressing themselves because their ability to communicate was limited by the absence of languages!
And then they gave up their Bohemian life to settle down. Simple inventions simplified life so that more time to think and develop the languages that we know today. Well…some languages did have a short lived shelf life…but the others survived and prospered.

Then the languages adapted themselves to the surroundings and dialects developed. Some dialects found a script and some didn’t. And even today, there are languages that do have a written form! Strange! So people who speak that language will never have to face the problem of illiteracy. That sounds good and bright…doesn’t it?

And now I come to the trillion dollar question. Yes…the trillion dollar question (coming to think of it, that’s a LOT of money!). Have languages really enabled us to overcome our problems of communicating? The answer, as I see it, is an all encompassing NO! It hasn’t definitely added to the handicap…but it hasn’t been of much help either. Though, ironically enough, I am using one of those very languages to write this piece. But that is not what I am talking about. Giving words to emotions and thoughts is not what I am referring to. What I mean to say is…languages flatten our thoughts and emotions to a large extent.

Ok, let me explain. Now…there is this little princess whom I love a lot. When I do tell her that I love her, I can say…maybe…”I love you”…or…”I love you a lot”…or (getting in a little more variation within the limitations of language)…”I really love you”. But that’s more or less it! I mean, I can’t really express the intensity of what I feel for her. And the language doesn’t even go deep enough. HOW MUCH is a factor that a language conveniently ignores. I will not be surprised if even now I am unable to express the intensity of what I am writing. In spite of being a copywriter…I can’t really overcome the flaws which exist in a language’s foundation, isn’t it?

It would have such a utopian world if telepathy was a regular phenomenon. We would have saved so much time…not trying to explain the inexplicable. Things would just have been understood! Like two minds communicating between themselves without the presence of any language to forma hindrance. Only wish…wish it would have been like that. Life would have been even simpler.

But then again…I guess a little complication adds that extra spice to life, isn’t it? So though…there are certain problems that a language gives rise to…but then there are nice and sweet things like poetry which would have been non existent without languages. What do you say?

Anyway, it is late and I am hungry. So I will leave you with this little food for thought while go and grab a bite to eat!

Adios.

hmmm...

It’s strange. I mean the human race in general. And since I happen to be a part of the same race, I guess I am a little strange too.

Like for example, it is said that one should make hay when the Sun shines but if you actually do that then you are branded an opportunist! And then again…there is so much talk of professionalism in this world but coming to think of it, it is all very much personal at the end of the day. Everything in this whole wide world is based on rapport.
Good personal relations in this world ensure good work too!

To sort out all this confusion in life, I had a chat with God. I was sitting alone in my room when out of the blue He dropped by. It was a little eerie at first. But then we got talking. For him, surprisingly, everything was really simple. But I being a mere mortal of course couldn’t understand His deeper plans! Seemed like a mist to me.

So he sat down to explain the things to me. But even his explanation was at a plane that couldn’t really reach…I could just aspire to. We spoke for a long time. A real long time. He put his viewpoint forward and I put mine in front of him. Apparently, even He has appointments with people. The thing is that He decides whom to meet and when and where. Oh…and He loves coffee by the way!

With that the conversation moved on and somewhere in the middle, I fell asleep. When I woke up He wasn’t around. So I am now waiting for the day when He pays me a visit again!

So till then…

Adios.

crazy caffeine

It’s brown. It’s strong. It’s creamy. And interesting company and stimulating conversation increases its potency! Million dollar question is…what on the beautiful earth (currently suffering from global warming and pollution) am I talking about? To the ones who have guessed…congratulations. To the ones who haven’t…I will just tell you. I am talking of coffee! Bitter…brown…brilliant…beverage…that’s coffee for you.

I am supposed to work on a campaign for Coffee Board in India. And all the research has driven me over the top. Even my little princess is busy writing an article so I don’t want to disturb her. So meanwhile…I shall feast upon your grey cells by telling you about coffee. And give you food for thought in return. So sit down, relax and read on about coffee with a cup of coffee in your hand!

There is probably no person on this planet who has never tasted coffee in his/her life. If there is…then he/she has a really sad life. It’s probably the most sensuous beverage in the world. Conversations gain momentum over cups of coffee. Acquaintances are made of steaming hot mugs of espressos or creamy glasses of cold coffee!

There have been various descriptions of this amazing beverage…and here is one of the oldest ever recorded!
In 1583, Leonhard Rauwolf, a German physician, after returning from a ten-year trip to the Near East, gave this description of coffee:

“A beverage as black as ink, useful against numerous illnesses, particularly those of the stomach. Its consumers take it in the morning, quite frankly, in a porcelain cup that is passed around and from which each one drinks a cupful. It is composed of water and the fruit from a bush called bunnu.”

Today, coffee has a global presence. And it is surprising that this universal drink had its earliest roots in the small little country that the world calls Ethiopia! That too, as early as the 9th century!

Someone just walked in with a cup full of coffee from the vending machine. I don’t really like the coffee actually because I like it strong and the coffee from the vending machines is really bland.

In some ways, coffee is like women. Rich in color, intoxicating, beautiful, irresistible and occasionally…bitter. And since I like….actually…respect women with a strong mind, hence I like strong coffee! Now, where did such a sensuous name originate from? Good question. It came about from the Italian word caffé, which in turn was borrowed from the Ottoman Turkish word kavah.

Coffee also comes in handy when a guy is unsure about how to ask a girl out. “Can we go have a cup of coffee?” is a question that makes things sound so much simpler! Coffee has a certain, inexplicable romance attached to it. A rainy afternoon, a hot cup of coffee, dim lights and a book…sounds perfect! Ideas have emerged over cups of coffee. Rebellions have been planned! And the emergence of coffee houses all across the country had given the intelligentsia to gather at one place and raise a storm in a tea…err…coffee cup! So many songs have been dedicated to this wonderful drink! Besides…coffee has been used in ice creams, chocolates, cocktails and God alone knows what else. The usage is not limited to edible recipes only…it is also used to cut through the olfactory nerves when one is trying out perfumes because coffee can cut through smell.

And coffee has good and bad effects on health too! The negative effects are primarily due to Caffeine and the positive ones (I don't know what causes them, though) are that it reduces the risk of Parkinson's, Alzheimer's and a whole lot of other diseases!

Sheesh! i have actually been sermonising!
In short…coffee has a lot to be written about and that just reminds me…I have to head back to work. I hope you have finished you cup of coffee and I have chewed thoroughly on you brains. If I haven’t, do let me know because I haven’t then I shall be back to chew a little more on what’s remaining of you brain. Right now, I have to rush…my coffee awaits me!

Adios.

The case of the lost identity

(This story is a work of fiction but may bear resemblance to people living and dead.)

He walked into his office groggily at 11 in the morning. Being half dazed wasn’t really an exceptional thing considering sleep was a scarce commodity and the reasons for that were innumerable. His chair, as usual was missing. Grabbing a chair from the next workstation, he sat down. He put on the button on his comp and sat staring blankly at the screen.

At 24, if someone asked him what he wanted from life, he probably wouldn’t have had an answer. Theoretically, he could see it all sorted out. Finances, romance, career, life and everything else that mattered. The job was good and so was the money. There was an angel in life…though she hadn’t quite become his girl…but he was working on it. And he was hopeful. But in reality…it was all one big scattered jigsaw puzzle. One labyrinth he couldn’t find the way out of. Strange that a person who could visualize life so clearly, couldn’t reach the destination!

His questions to life seemed to disappear somewhere in the fathomless depths of the ocean. Anyway, giving in to reality that stared him in the face…he sat down to work. Work…now THAT was an interesting term, considering that was pretty much what he had in life. Home. Work. Work. Home.

And this hustle bustle of life, which had gradually given way to monotony, he had lost something very dear to him. Something essential. His identity. Who was he? The question gave way to a deathly silence. He wracked his brains and thought hard but the deafening silence continued its advance on the noise. Sitting there in that office, he was experiencing Brownian movement. Nobody there could even remotely estimate what was going on within him. He was restless.

He thought of the past. He thought of the bright spots that seemed to provide the only light which gave him the strength to fight. Sitting there, he thought if he had always been so clueless about life. The answer, definitely, was NO. Then where had he lost his way? And when? He couldn’t seem to remember.

Today, when identity has been converted into a commodity, he did not possess it. On one hand, it was good because he could disappear into the lanes of anonymity when he was tired of the rat race. He was untraceable. But sometimes…he wanted to be discovered. He wanted to be known by people. Life had put him into a fix. And he was the one who had to find the way out because otherwise he would undergo slow suffocation. He could already feel the pain. Then suddenly…he saw that face. His little angel. He loved her. He adored her. He wanted to share his life with her. But alas! Words sometimes, fell too short to tell her how much she meant. He stared at her photograph…lost in her thoughts. Her voice rang in his ears like the chirping of birds on a spring morning.

Sitting there, he made a decision. He was called indecisive but this time, he knew he would never decide on anything more firmly than this. He decided to set out on the quest to discover his identity. Not his name or what the world thought of him but to find out who he actually was. He asked his princess to walk with him. The journey will be tough without her support. He knew he could take care of her.

Did she walk holding his hand on the paved and unpaved lanes of life? I do not know. But he is already on the quest and I haven’t heard from the princess in a while. I…happen to be an optimist. Rest is open to interpretation…
If you find his identity…call him on 1800 1600 1600

And if you don’t…then he will find it himself. And he will come back.

Adios.

The autobiography of a dust bin...

First…for those of you who understand Hindi: “Mujhe Naaz pe naaz hai”
For those of you who don’t understand the language…well…ask someone to translate it for you! I wonder what I would have done if my little angel wasn’t around! She is the source of constant inspiration and the brains behind these crazy pieces…I just punch it out in the language called English!! Thank you darling :)

Ok, now moving on with the piece. I shall now hand the keyboard over to the Dust Bin, who is very keen on telling you his story…

Hi. I am a Dust Bin. You may have come across me at your home, on the road and various other mentionable and unmentionable places. I have various forms…I can look like a penguin, an aluminum trash can, a plastic bucket and a whole lot of other things.

Now, people put me in a corner and just forget me unless they have some trash. Basically, they give me crap all the time! Though…technically, I am a DUST BIN so I am supposed to collect only DUST but people stuff me with all kinds of absolute garbage!

To top it off, they don’t clean me up! And by the end of the day I am so stuffed that I can’t really eat any more! That excessive garbage accumulation also forces me to take on the role of a home to different living beings like rats, mice, dogs and many people that I will rather not mention! But yeah, I kind of like the variety because after all, who doesn’t want some variation in their diet?? That’s what one may call a balanced diet.

If your are wondering about what I am getting at, then stop wondering because I am not getting anywhere. I am a DUST BIN, remember…so I get crap and I TALK rubbish! Well, don’t blame me for ! have you ever figured what would have happened if I did not exist in the world? Where would all the garbage have gone? But not that now people don’t have it going all over the place like the roads, pavements and various other places.

This was about in general as a dust bin. Now, about my personal life. Have had a pretty strange one. I am made out of an old carton meant for more worthy things in its lifetime but for some reason people thought I would suit this job profile better…and it was anyway a brighter option considering that the other was being spread out and used as a doormat! So I don’t really remember when I was born but I have been meticulously keeping this room clean for the past six months. And though I don’t have any exercise the whole day, considering I don’t have legs to move around, thankfully I do not put on any weight because of my super fast metabolism, I guess.

I remember one day when this kid had thrown a half eaten pepperoni pizza in my mouth and it was absolutely yum. In fact, I always wait for those big parties that my employers throw once in a while because I get to eat brilliant food for a change.
Oh…and my height is two feet and the complexion is wheatish. Religion…ummm…well I am not too particular about that because I collect garbage anyway!
Recently, I had a massive crush on this rag-picker who used to empty my contents in the morning because she was the only one in the whole wide world who didn’t give me garbage. Instead, she took it from me. One gorgeous girl she was! Shy that I am, I could never express how much I loved her…and besides, I was a mere dust bin. I remember waiting for her to arrive in the morning, like the warm rays of sunlight after a cold, dark night. But then, I am a dust bin and not destined to be happy so one morning I heard her mushy talk with the man servant upstairs and before I could realize, they got romantically involved and got married! Now they work at the same house and she lives with the employers’ family upstairs. It hurts to know that she is someone else’s girl now! Bhoo hoo hoo…(oops! I can’t cry because that makes the cardboard rot and wither).

I like the dog next door and the female dog (just trying to be politically correct) at my home too! They keep sniffing at me and give me a little peck on the cheek once in a while (though, with the kind of shape I have, it’s a little difficult to figure out where my cheeks really are)…just like they do to the humans! They are getting married next month and I overheard both the families plan to give me a promotion. A dust bin getting a promotion? Doesn’t make sense, right? Well…this is how. I generally collect only dry garbage. So I am pretty clean. And both the families have run out of boxes. The few that ARE remaining are too small. So I shall be cleaned, given a new cover and be upgraded to be the home for the newly married couple and the cradle for their beautiful little babies! Whoa! What bliss. Life IS good indeed sometimes. And did I mention that there is a new rag picker and she is even more sweet! So well, life is, I guess…looking up finally.

Anyway…my job beckons and besides, I have twisted my cardboard fingers…typing. So you all pray for me while go and take some more crap. And now it’s over to this human sitting beside me.

Hey guys…it’s me…Shom…back again. Well, Dustin (that’s what I have christened the dust bin and I wonder what Hoffman will have to say to that) has gone back to work and I am too bored to write. Have a headache. So I am off and I shall think of something and write the next entry myself. Take care, eat drink and make merry till then.

Adios.

Feelin' BLUE

Yesterday was a Monday. I was wearing blue. So what, you may ask. You don’t get it…do you? It was the symbolic representation of Monday morning blues. Strangely enough, quite a few other people were also wearing blue! And that’s what finally kicked off this piece. But the idea came from a beautiful angel I know.

After having read my piece on apples (if you haven’t read it yet, then just scroll down…it’s right there)…my special friend…yeah the same one who reminded me of the “apple of the eye” phrase…had given me the idea of writing a piece on blue. Without her suggestion, this piece wouldn’t have come into existence. Thank you honey…love you for this.

Anyway…moving on with the actual topic without any further diversion…I sometimes wonder why the color blue is treated so unfairly! I mean, just imagine, the unwillingness to go to the office on the groggy Monday mornings is called Monday morning BLUES (that too, in plural!). Why can’t it be called the Monday morning pinks…or Monday morning REDS (which in fact makes more sense because red is also the color associated with anger, stop, etc. and it suits the mood of the Monday mornings more!)

And then again…it is said that a person is beaten black and BLUE. I am sure the person who coined the term was color blind…because it is NOT blue, in fact it is a dark purple. I have seen that on plenty of faces! But that I guess is a convention that this language has been following for a little too long.

Now, why is feeling BLUE considered to be a negative expression? I mean, if blue is my favourite color then I may feel blue when I am the HAPPIEST! See? But since I am bound by the conventions of language again, I have to feel blue ONLY when I am sad. THAT in fact is sad.

And blue also happens to be the color of carnal desires…and trust me…Viagra has used the properties of the color to the maximum. Now, why can’t spirituality or maybe divinity be represented by blue? Strange!

Strangely, the royalty gladly attached themselves to this color, calling themselves BLUE blood. Now, will someone please come and show me what BLUE BLOOD looks like? I have just seen RED (blood with hemoglobin) and WHITE (blood sans hemoglobin) versions. Coming to think of it…BLUE might not really be the color I want, running through my veins, irrespective of how much I love that color!

Though, the saving grace is the fact that there still are a few expressions which are a little neutral…like “out of the BLUE”…which may also refer to a pleasant surprise! And “once in a BLUE moon” which again would have sounded strange if it was “once in a RED moon or GREEN moon”. Sounds jarring to the ears, doesn’t it? And...I guess someone, at some point of time, had felt like the way I am feeling right now and had hence created the expression "BLUE EYED"...which probably is the only positive connotation attached to the color. But...I don't really mind hazel, black or brown eyes either! In fact, my little angelic friend, who gave me the idea of this piece has simply awesome eyes! And they are not blue!! See?

But honestly…the color deserves a little more respect considering half the nations in this world feel blue…because blue is the color used for 50% of the flags of countries across the world! The two other most popular colors are red and white which appear on 74% and 71% of the flags respectively!

Anyway, I won’t stretch this piece to an extent that you turn blue in the face because of lack of oxygen in your respiratory track. So I shall take your leave now.

Adios.