Mrs B was quite happy these last few days. She had been on a winter holiday with Mr.R. I say winter because it was in the northern hemisphere and 25th dec in this half of the globe is considered winter. There was nothing really to suggest it was so. Blue sky..light fluffy clouds..palm trees..coral reefs, aquamarine blue sea with changing hues , a hot and bright sun till 7 in the evening..warm sand..cosy beach chairs......margaritas, mojitos, long showers, late nights by the pool, air conditioning in the hotel room. It was somewhere in the tropics and Mrs B hoped she never had to return to frigid reality. Ever again. It wasn't terribly romantic and the quiet twosome holiday as she would have adored..but it was fun filled one with friends, some old, some new and some....She could almost sing out loud " We had joy we had fun we had season's in the sun". Interestingly she developed a knack for this tune in this trip to the tropical paradise.
For a couple of days after her return she still kept on thinking how soon she could get away once again. But as life has it, slowly the frenzy gave way to acceptance of the cold reality. That she was still a graduate studenttt and the semesterrr was far from being over and the pppaperrr she had to write ...and the copies she had to grrrrade..and the offffffice hoursssss she had to hold..and worst of all the maillllllllls she had to endure...it was never ending. It was then she saw this picture. It was that time, post trip, when her head was still in the clouds but her feet was back on the ground..and she kept looking at the pictures over and over again..till she almost convinced herself that her feet too was on cloud 9 and that tomorrow will be sunny and she would be back on the beach.
Oh Yes! the picture. It was one taken by Mr.R. A white sandy road, lined on either side by green-needle-like foliage, going slight upslope and at the brink one could see the deep blue sky with various shaped white clouds...and there was hint of something..wonderful..just across that brink. Well, in reality she had run across that path into a something breathtaking..she remembered the sensation but if she tried to express her feelings into word she realized that no one would realise why it was so beautiful. Yes, they would understand that it was pretty. But they wouldn't grasp the bewitching quality of the feeling she had when she had raced across that path. So she did not share this one experinece with anoyone.Till she saw that picture. How interesting that Mr R had captured with his camera what she had silently enjoyed....the most. They did not even know of the reason why this would claim their attantion simultaneously. Maybe there was something deeply common between themselves which they hadn't recognized? She felt mildly happy at the possibility.
As soon as she saw the picture, she had said aloud to herself "Road to El Dorado"...
As a college student another picture had always featured on her "desktop". It was a grey road, lined on both sides by tall cyprus trees..and the road went into the screen..far away from her. She always liked to look at it and think...thoughts of far away lands. So, the concept was always dear to her. But the one on her 'desktop' did not leave her with a sense of promise. This one did. So she looked at it long and hard..and allowed herself to think, without forcing herself to think of things she wanted to think. There is a difference between the two. She wanted to see, where she eventually ended up.
Her thoughts took her to places she had always imagined...Egypt, Tuscanny, Rome, Montanna. It was so soothing she allowed herself to keep thinking. For some reason her thoughts came back to a red road. A bend in that red road and she was on her way, riding her blue cycle.. fast. There were familiar houses as her mind consumed up the images. Why.. just a few yards and she could almost see that grey house that she loved so much.The blue gate and by that the old street lamp and after that .... the long wide open field. It wasn't so much the house she saw. It was an expectation that she would see the faces she had come to love and expect from, before she even knew what expectations were.
She stopped thinking. No this couldn't be the El Dorado..why it had to be somwhere sunny, with palm trees, warm beaches, cosy beach chairs, margarita's and mohitos..all just across the brink up there. That brink across the white sandy road couldn't lead to a grey house with a blue gate full of familiar faces. It had to be hidden somewhere in the unknown which she wanted to find but couldn't. That was what El Dorado was supposed to be. Wasn't it? She did have a fantastic imagination.
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