Amaranthine Existence

Prologue: "Amaranthine" has two meanings, one of which is a colour and the other is Undying or Unfading. These are diary entries by Rudiger Smoot, who is The Introvert's creation. Rudy is based on her Alter-Ego close friend and this post is part of a series, Rudy's Chronicles, which shares glimpses of how an Introverted Mind thinks.

Diary Entry #146: 3rd February

It was twilight, the time when the sky was the canvas and mother nature the artist. She smeared different shades of red & orange as the sands of time steadily dropped. He was there, witnessing the creation of her masterpiece, in complete awe of her talent. Rudy would always visit the end of the city when he felt like having a conversation in silence. There weren't many people at this time of the day. Rudy seated himself on his slippers, avoiding soiling his jeans. He sat there idyllically staring at the waves, lost in thought. His daydreaming was broken by the cold water lapping his feet; the tides were rising. The waves were just like little disobedient children being pulled by their mother to take them home.

Home Rudy reminisced. He had a smile on his face thinking about this. He hadn't had such a curve on his face since a long time. It was one, filled with true happiness, from the inner chambers of his heart. He knew he loved everyone back home, however difficult they were to live with. He saw a boat leave the shore, on it was a man waving back at his family, a wife, a young son & a baby daughter. He would probably never see them again, delving into the heart of the ocean, facing unknown dangers, but, like everyone else, he hoped. He hoped to come back and feel the warmth of his wife once again. He wished to see his children grow old, get married and get on with their journey in life. Hope Rudy derided. He of all people knew how treacherous it was clinging to hope. The only thing greater than fear he thought.

He turned his gaze back to the waves. They continued oscillating, never giving up, always trying to meet the land, rising every time they fell. Rudiger had loved beaches as a child, and he could relate to them, talk to them and share all his emotions with them, without uttering a word. He was not great with people; he preferred inanimate objects. Often, he would discuss his turmoils with his car, earphones or even his pillow. This would always astound the people around him eventually deeming him to be off his rocker. Rudy, on the other hand, was inured to their judgements. They weren't important, he thought, every time. He loved his songs in his playlist, they never judged him. They were his partners in crime, complementing his whims, by his side for every tricky bend in his life. He plugged his earphones & debauched in the tunes of ecstasy.

The sun was almost engulfed by the ocean; it was beginning to get dark. He saw a flock of birds forming perfect geometric shapes, flying back to their nests. He looked around; people began filling parts of the beach, encroaching his solitary. A young teen approached Rudy, prodding him to buy a few balloons from him. He could have been the next billionaire if luck had favoured him to be born into a better family. Maybe the boy wanted to do something other than selling balloons; maybe he wanted to be a singer, maybe he wanted to be a writer or maybe he wanted to be a dictator. Rudy reached for his wallet, took out a note of the highest denomination and handed it to the kid. He took all the balloons and told him to enjoy his day.

Just then his phone rang. He answered it, listened carefully, muttered a few words and said: "I'll be there". Rudy decided to listen to his favourite song as a parting gift. He realised he had to head back to his promotion party; everyone was waiting for him. A part of him wanted to stay back, enjoy this amaranthine existence of himself, but he knew that sometimes social obligations must be fulfilled to survive in the muck of the world. The song was over.

He rose to his feet, rolled his earphones and prepared himself for the perfunctory performance he was about to give. He put on his fake mask that he used in the world, practised his feigned smiles until he was satisfied and began walking along the shore. He looked up at the sky; it was black with a tinge of dark blue. The diamonds of the sky had come out of hiding, twinkling personifying jubilance. Rudy envied them; they were immortal. They were happy. They were far away from humankind, he concluded. As he walked, he noticed his footprints being washed away by those waves. Rudy smiled, not the one he practised; he knew how similar his footprints were to his existence at the beach. It would be written & forgotten, for nobody to read, nobody to see, forever preserved in the chapters of time. Undying. Unfading.