Grey

Every morning the red rose of last night turned grey. Just like any other day, this morning I waited for the curtains to catch some tinge of brightness then stepped on the cold marble floor. Just as I approached the curtains to peek through them at the grey painted lawn, Ray, my husband came in with morning tea.

Ugh! Now he will insist on rushing things up! You can never give him enough excuses to steal five lazy minutes from his strict schedule. He will insist that you get ready for work half an hour early so that you don't need to rush on your way. Then he will spend the time by repeating the same instructions every day before leaving home, "there is no reason for you to cross the road from the random places! Zebra crossings are painted in black and white." Although we leave for the work together and cross a considerable part of our way to work together, he will always stop at the doorstep to remind me that if the signal lights seem the same I can tell if it's okay to cross the road by looking at the fellow pedestrians; and that it won't hurt if I took help from the traffic police officers, once in a while.

Well, this has been our routine for last five years. Nothing changed, not even the color of the roses that he brings every evening while returning from work.  Nothing, except the color of his shirts, which I can tell only by the end of the day. It's funny how little things begin to matter so much when one aspect of your life shuts its door at you. Who would have noticed that even pavements at their edges have yellow-and-black stripped borders!

I did!

Rather, I had to!

It is difficult to be indifferent towards colors when you are deprived of them for a majority part of your day. Yes, I am color-blind. The irony is that it is not permanent. Every morning I lose all the colors, other than black white and grey, but, as the day advances towards its end, gradually, the colors begin to emerge from the grey shades. Greens and reds are the worst. Others begin to emerge early but I need to wait until evening for getting a glimpse of red or green.

When it occurred first, both my husband and I could not get a grasp of what was happening. I faced no accident like many other people with similar conditions, nor was I born with this condition. One morning, out of the blue, my whole world turned black, white and grey. For almost a week Ray thought it was a sick joke, a trick that I was playing on him to mess with his mind but, as the number of tests increased his temper softened. As the realization hit him that it wasn't a joke he became excessively worried, cause no one was really able to fathom what was happening to me. eventually the doctors made the conclusion that I became partially color-blind.

The doctors stressed that what I had was incurable and I had to live with the condition for the rest of my life. We said,

"at least I did not have a chronic disease that could kill me! At least I could see things and with a little caution could live a normal life."

It was easier to accept than to live with, for it is not the same to try to live a normal life and to have one. We needed an anchor so we could make sense of what was happening. The red rose became our anchor. My husband has been bringing one red rose, each day, on his way back home for the last five years. Every evening, while handing me the rose he asks me its color. Well I can predict its color before it is bought! Because it's always red! Still, he would ask the question. Perhaps it is more about testing if I am the same person that he came home to for all these years than if I can see the color.

After the initial six months, my husband began to switch between myriad ranges of colors for his shirts, which was funny, because he never liked bright colors that much. He always inclined towards black and grey. Nevertheless, he had to find a way to tell if I was pretending to be all right, to make him happy, or if I could really recognize the colors by the end of the day. Now he simply enjoys the cocky comments that I make on his shirts at his arrival at home.

The Judgement

Today's a little special. It's our six year marriage anniversary. We planned to dine out after work and Ray's supposed to pick me up from the parking lot of my office. So, I finished my work by six-thirty, touched up my makeup a little and ardently began to wait for the clock to mark seven. Five minutes to go, my manager called me into her cabin. Though I think very highly of her, at that moment I felt Irritated. Considering just this afternoon I mentioned about tonight's plans to her, I didn't expect her to call me just now. Halfheartedly I entered her cabin only to find her busy in a heated discussion with Arthur from the accounts. With calm exterior, I waited for her to finish with Arthur, while with every moment I grew impatient.

Once Arthur left, my manager asked me to take a seat. For around five minutes, she inquired about my work; then handed me an envelope with the company's logo on it. For some time now, I have been waiting for the letter. My heart leapt and at the same time, I felt ashamed for my annoyance on being called to my manager's room. I beamed at my manager expectantly and as she signaled her encouragement, I tore open the envelope and slid the letter out.

"Dear Mrs. Shaw," it read, "We are pleased to inform you that you have been promoted to the post of Assistant Manager Operations, based on your annual review of performance. Congratulations on your achievement and best of luck in your future endeavors."

My manager took me to the floor and announced my promotion. I was on the seventh heaven, floating on the wishes and praises of my colleagues. It was already ten past seven when I noticed the clock, I was just measuring my options when, kindly, my manager intervened and let me leave the office.

Quickly, I picked my bag, gave her a meaningful look and left for the parking lot. Thankfully, Ray had not reached yet, so quickly I put on a facade of being annoyed at his delay.

Both of us were very excited as for the first time in last five years I have shown signs of progress. Colored part of my days has gradually increased in last six months. Just this morning I observed a yellow hue in our curtains while the mornings had always been the worst! Now I have the news of my promotion too. I was really excited to tell Ray about it and was growing impatient by every moment.

At the quarter past seven, he arrived. He was late! He stepped out of the car to open the gate of the passenger seat for me. He was in a dark grey shirt and as he came out, he had a dozen roses in his hand.

A dozen grey roses.

He handed them to me with a charming smile but forgot to ask their color.