Polka Dots

“Someone is a dreadful blotch
While someone is an ordinary spot
But the best of them all
Is the joyous, bouncy polka dot”

Monsoon has attacked this city. Rain rain everywhere, not a drop to escape from! Yesterday, after office, I took my umbrella and braved myself to go back home… it was not raining as it mostly does…the water wasn’t conspiring with the wind and slimily drenching me from all sides, but gently drizzling – almost pleasant…slightly making me smile and forget the fact that I was at office on a Sunday. I let my umbrella blossom with a flourish and then stepped onto the horrid bumpy water filled road… and then I saw dots… the raindrops very designedly fell on the water body making tiny ripples at intervals… it was like a polka dotted puddle… nature’s own pattern!

Now I see dots everywhere. When I go to buy my night pajamas. When I watch the beetle scuttle in the bush at the park. When I sit doodling on blank papers while I am on the phone. When I dab dots of night cream of my face. When I watch one big bubble float in the air during my bath. When I stare at the yolk of my fried egg at breakfast. When I type any word that has an ‘o’ in it. The whole world is suddenly one big polka dot.

There is such harmony in polka dots. It’s like one visual song. And there is a peaceful sense of co-existence in them. And a strange feeling of life and joy. I feel comfortable when I see polka dots. I think it is the smoothness. Or the fact that they all seem, somehow, to be at one level…there is none above or below the other…its so in accord. Unlike lines and sharp patterns, it doesn’t disturb me.

White dots on bright red. Green dots on lemon yellow. Purple dots on hot pink. Ah! Such variety. So many combinative possibilities. So much colour. And so many happy dots. The world is one enormous dot. And I, a speck, just waiting to be a polka dot.