The Pink Cloud Trader

The things that you see on the street... cars, buses, noisy autorickshaws, hooligans on bikes and the single aspect that rips through the monotony black and grey, a stick poking out of the smoke, a beautiful pink cloud. Sounds like something out of a dream right?

Well, it's not. It's something we see on every traffic light, on the fringe of gullies and often going through a crowded street. It's the magic that is cotton candy. Sorry for the build up, but I think it deserves the praise. That single cloud floating over the turmoil that is daily life signifies so much. For some, it's a blast to the past, of fares evaporated, rides extinct, others, something to look forward to in the evening, when the stomach growls for something food adjacent.Hopes of little ones, attached to that one call that brings that beautiful creation of spun sugar and the reminiscent smell of rust and colorful awnings surrounding them, leaving sweet remnants in their mouth.

But why did I write this?

Because today, while the auto stopped, it's engine spewing smoke like it would obliterate everything behind just to skip ahead and leave us to our destination, I saw a glimpse, of the pink cloud trader spidering through the sea of cars, visible for a second, invisible the other.Then, with expectant eyes he neared, hoping I would succumb to his wares, but I kept my childhood at bay, with a simple negatory nod. Though insignificant at that particular moment, I realised later that, I had left my childhood behind with that single shake of the head. The pink cloud, at least at that point had failed to mesmerise me. It was much later, it hit me like a hammer, what that sky high cloud of pink actually meant.

This post, may not be of much significance to those who have trailed the stairs of life to adulthood, for them, it may be a mere whim and nothing else, but for me? it signifies all the elements that have lost their importance because we grew up. Unknowingly, we left every little thing behind that encapsulated our past and moved on to more tedious and serious affairs.While that has a significant upside, we often fail to understand what's lost. 

For people who wonder why I wrote a semi soliloquy on my encounter with something as menial as spun sugar, let's just say it brings back memories, memories I wish I could relive one more time, as do a lot of other people. If only H.G Wells was on to something. *Sigh*

P.S- All is not lost. We always get a smidge of time back whenever we see a pink cloud trader,or an "alu kabliwala" or just someone selling pinwheels. But that's all there is. A sliver and nothing else, the gaps have to be filled with imagination.

Goodbye...my reminiscent humans.