The Umbrella Story

The story of how I now ought to prefer colourful patterns as opposed to the repetitive black and whites that I used to... An indication of how I people (me) grow out of their comfort zones.. Maybe jump around a little, and finally trust people.

This one time, shopping for all the back-to-school supplies with my mother, we came across a small store. What attracted me to the store was the display of umbrellas. It was a store that sold only umbrellas and rain-coats. I convinced myself that I was in desperate need of an umbrella, since "Mom! All my friends now have umbrellas. No one really wears rain coats anymore!" Yeah, mom. Like you didn't see through THAT.
So, the store..
It had these wonderful glass displays full of umbrellas and they were all black, grey or white, all with different patterns. I entered the store with my mother. I started looking for an umbrella that I would like. The shopkeeper, trying to be helpful, fished out all the colourful ones he had. Zazzy colours. Stripes, flames, polka dots.. you name it. He was a little disappointed to see that I didn't like them one bit.
I asked him to show me the black and grey ones. He looked a little puzzled and said "Beta, those are for all the boring people.. All the kids use these colourful ones! Why don't you choose something from these, here?" but I insisted.
He finally showed me some of the black and grey ones. I found one that I really liked. It was black.. and had grey checks. Uncommon. Things that don't stand out in a crowd. Good enough to blend in, unless someone looked closely. I ended up buying that one.

After I went home, I enthusiastically showed it to my grandfather. He asked me why I liked it so much. I didn't really have an answer at that time. I just said I liked it.
After two days of thinking about grandfather's question, I framed an acceptable response. Well, acceptable  by babyish standards, of course. I was much younger, then, you see.

I told him what the shopkeeper had said as well, right after my 'answer'.
My answer (I don't remember much.. or I'd rather pretend that I do not remember..) consisted something along the lines of  "Tata, I don't want to stand out in a crowd. It is scary. People will look at you and point you out. All your flaws.. wide open... for the whole wide world to see..! How can anyone want that? By buying an inconspicuous, yet pretty umbrella, I'm just trying to make sure that people who see me for me will be able to find my faults. That way, people I give permission to, are the only ones who can break my walls.."

He asked me if I could keep a secret, then.. to which I said yes, of course. Being a quiet and calm person, it kinda came naturally to me. 

He then sat me down after dinner, and told me things that I will never forget. He told me about how I must not let what people think of me define me.. of how people always judge a book by its cover and how people notice colour. He told me that colour and pattern were things people are attracted to and that even when faults were found, they would overlook them. I didn't believe it, then.. I somehow do not believe it now, either. People are mean. They do not overlook faults. They cannot accept things that are beyond them. They just..Believe. Naive as it may be, the word believe does, in fact have the word 'lie' in it.. (Looks like a thought for another day, though..)
By using a colourful exterior, you can try covering an ugly interior.. But then, it works the other way round, too, doesn't it? Cliché. The colourful, beautiful interior, covered by the dull greys.. More than enough movies on that concept.
Then what about the beautiful interior.. The one shuttered by multiple layers of black? What can be done to the walls that have been re-erected after a betrayal, or two.. or a hundred? The walls that might never crumble again? 

See? People don't notice. They just go about their business and leave the rest. And that is a good thing. The last thing someone shuttered needs, is people prying.

There are more things my grandfather told me that day.. about how not all people are like that.. etc. etc. Maybe. Maybe not. It ain't my life's mission to find out the truth behind those words. I hope they are true.. and that there are people out there who care. But that doesn't make much difference anyway.

Well.. after that little talk, I never told of that piece of advice to anyone. He also told me to use the black-grey umbrella until I was comfortable with using a colourful one. 

I use the black-grey one till this day.

Maybe some day, I will visit that shop once again and ask the shopkeeper to give me the most colourful, flashy, pretty umbrella he has and start using it. Maybe then, I will be able to throw away the black-grey one.. The one, owing to whose small size, travels with me in my bag almost always, during the rains. The one that shields me from people.. the one that shields me from.. Me.

Well, then... That's the story. Off to bed, kids.

P.S. Apologies to the black-grey umbrella. I love you. And you are absolutely BEA-utiful.