What are you painting?
By: Deepika B
Tags: Metaphorical Writing, Life, Mothers, Random Musings, Life Leasons

I’m in the penultimate episode of Season 4 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. As I sit in front of the TV, watching Miriam Maisel exude her bubbly charm balanced by the practicality of her manager/friend, Susie, my binge-watch-partner/life-partner exclaims, “Why are they speaking so fast? And why is there so much color on screen? Everything is so dramatic…”

He’s been watching Hunters, by the way. A stark contrast to this series in many ways, yet with some common strains. Somehow what he said got me thinking.

Mrs. Maisel is colorful. She loves looking beautiful in brightly colored clothes, speaks her mind with no filter, comes from an upper class family in New York which is now seeing tougher times and she deals with it by making money as a radio voiceover artist — a side profession when she isn’t opening for popular artists as a stand up comedian. I look at her giving her best at the worst of times, failing and getting back up with the same fervor. My mind fills up with a burst of bright yellow and pink.

But it’s not just her. Her mother Rose, has a wildly independent streak to her when she is in her hometown, Paris. Yet, when she’s with her husband in New York, she’s more than happy to lead a silent life without voicing her opinion. She loses her strength in these times, yet regains it when the need arises. She flits between red and blue.

Her husband, Abe Weissman is a rebel at heart who ends up teaching at a prestigious university for the longest time, before quitting. His decision to quit changes the lives of all his family members, but he stays firm. The battle between the conservative father and the strongly opinionated rebel group leader in him is palpable. Yet it seems so natural. It’s Abe, you think. He is sometimes brown and lifeless, and sometimes as full of life as a bright green tree.

And finally, Susie, who’s economic status is nowhere close to the Weissman’s. Yet her bond with Miriam Maisel takes her through a journey from rock bottom to almost the top. She’s brings very small variations in color now and then, but predominantly feels like black and white. Trying to see the light from utter darkness, and taking others along in that journey.

“What’s the fuss with color anyway?”, you ask. You realize what color a person brings to your life only when you’re away from it. In the past seven months, I’ve slowly realized that one particular person has painted a beautiful rainbow in my life, my mother.

She isn’t like anyone I described above, but she brings the best elements of all the people I know, bundled together. I don’t know how she does it. Maybe it is her open, confident smile that makes me feel she can take on any game and beat the best at it. Or is it her ability to do the most mundane tasks at home, while humming a peppy song and giving her best. Why is it that I ask her anything and she has an answer? And why is it that it is not just me who feels this way about her? I still get territorial when other kids get too cozy around her :P

While WhatsApp let’s me talk to her everyday, I miss her warm presence a lot. Like my house had a rainbow outside the window everyday, and suddenly I need to book a 1000 dollar flight, travel 24 hours and then drive for another hour and a half to see it. What if it rains and it gets too gloomy one day and I really want to see the rainbow?

Sometimes, the sun comes out despite the clouds. Peeks through and its rays burst beyond the thick layer of clouds and dazzle me with a shower of color. On other days, it’s too sunny. I want a mild drizzle, that lets me appreciate the possibilities hidden in the white light. To give me hope I can actually make my own rainbow.

When I look back at the people who I’ve been close to, they’ve all added a dash of color of my life. Each one a different shade, a different stroke. And just like how each stroke is important in making a beautiful painting, my painting is taking shape in ways I never imagined. There are newer colors and strokes that get added everyday. Sometimes I don’t want those colors until I appreciate the beauty they add to my painting, sometimes I want some colors but can’t get them and other times I get lucky and get exactly what I wish for. Everyone cannot turn out to be a Mona Lisa, I guess.

But everyone can be their own Leonardo da Vinci. So what if nature isn’t giving you the exact opportunity or experience you wished for? Can you not mix the red and blue you have to create that perfect purple you want? Everyone has a palette, a brush and a huge canvas. I’d like to think we start off with different colors initially, but we can find ways to grab hold of colors we need for our painting to be more meaningful.

I wish I had my set of rainbow colored paints whenever I wanted them… I really do. But until I can meet my rainbow and give her a tight hug, I’ll make the most of what I have. Will you?