Colours

Right now, on my desk is my nephew's Rubic's cube. I was trying to calm my mind and was absent-mindedly playing with it. The blue squares clashed with the yellow ones. The pink jostled against the white while the green revolved all around the little maps of their squared existence. Time it seemed, swirled to a stop, for a while all I could think of was how we put these beautiful colours in a cube. Those colours refuse to settle down in their cubicled existence...it is such a struggle to get all the colours in the same rows. Genuises who are in the know about these things talk about formulas for computing these colours.

And I thought again that we paint our lives with colours too. Beautiful colours. Then wonder why the colours don't match. But should they really match? Should everything in life conform to a cube we call existence? Why can't we just allow the colours to flow? To mix with other colours? Orderly it may not be but isn't chaos the catterpillar that creates butterflies? I don't know the answer to these questions. But I left the Rubic's cube unmatched. The colours clashed. Yet somehow, it seemed... to match.