It was an awfully small window in time their paths crossed, and yet they met, Chad and Maya, and for that she was glad, because he showed her the pink butterfly could fly.
It was rather trapped, the pink butterfly, and Maya watched it every single day, helpless. She was often like that, helpless, and staring, often wishing the could help but she often froze indecisive of how, or what to do, or maybe it was the fear of what could happen if she helped that froze her. So she sat and stared at the fluttering pink thing inside the glass box.
She pondered her life, often feeling much like the pink butterfly. Fluttering around, frustrated, seeing the world beyond the glass box, and yet resolved to flutter around its four corners. Dejected the butterfly would rest, in the corner on the top right of the box, because there was where it felt the least trapped. No matter how hard it fluttered its wings, it hit the glass ceiling of the box, much like her, dear Maya.
When Chad walked in and saw the pink fluttering wings he felt it. The hero in him jumped at the knowledge that he needed to reach out to smash the glass box, so he wrapped his fists tightly around the handle of the umbrella he was carrying. Funny he had that, for he hardly carried an umbrella, or anything that would burden him, or stop him from moving quickly. He slowly approached the glass box and watched the pink butterfly flutter.
Smash the glass will you? She pleaded. He looked up and his eyes met hers, he recognised that anxiety, that urgency in her voice. Wait, he whispered, she has to be ready to take flight. Maya was starting to get impatient. The pink butterfly was idle today, and it fluttered and flew, and rested at the top right hand corner of the glass box. He released the grip on the umbrella a little bit and shook his head, maybe tomorrow. She shrugged.
They walked off into the sunset in opposite directions him patient, and her, angry that he had not rescued the pink fluttering insect. She of course could not do it herself. She did not know how, just like how she flew around in her head daily revisiting her dreams, in the four corners of her mind, reluctant to let herself do them. She had been idle for years now, fluttering each day, before resting at the top right hand corner of her own little glass box. Waiting.
Day after Chad met Maya at the glass box, and waited, patiently. He was familiar with this, he knew if he smashed the box out of time, the butterfly would never have taken flight. So he hoped and urged daily for the little pink thing to gather enough ferocity, enough courage, enough energy. And day after day Maya just hoped and wished Chad would smash the glass box.
Chad often wondered why Maya did not smash the box, she needed to, for the pink butterfly was hers to free. He would accompany her anyhow, for it was he, and only he that could show her how. Everyone else was accustomed to being stuck in the box, he was the only one in her life that helped her remember there were things other than the glass box. He knew that. So he met her daily at the glass box, and reminded her, not of the possibilities she knew, but of how, he could live beyond the box.
He sat, wistful looking at the sun, and opened the window wide enough for the sun to enter in. Just a few months ago he was trapped, he thought. But one day he thought he wanted different, and he climbed through the window and never looked back. He hoped that Maya would like him, climb through that window one day. She was trapped much. She should jump, just like he did.
Maya often felt like a bird in the cage resolving to believe what she was told, that she has to make the best of the cage and be grateful for being fed. And he, there was a point in time where he would have broken down, shattered to tiny little shards, yet he’d find himself reassembling the pieces and move on, as if nothing had happened.
It was one day he was resolute, and he somehow cajoled enough will in his body to listen to that innate call. With the energy and one moment of passion he saw through the window at the lies he has been told about life. About how he should continue seeking to please others. And in that one moment of anger he jumped with all his might and shattered the glass box, to pieces.
The pink butterfly was restless that night. Something stirred and it all of a sudden knew, it rested on the top corner of the glass box to muster enough strength for tomorrow. For tomorrow will be different.
Chad set out as usual, in his straw hat and bermuda shorts towards the glass box. The weather was stormy, and he had to make many-a-stops and by the time he got there it was way past sunset. He slipped down the road into the the little alley and down the hill behind the coconut trees towards the sandy beach, it was almost sunset and he could see her shadow. He approached quietly and watched as Maya swiftly swung the umbrella into the glass box. He stopped and watched as she whispered to the fluttering pink butterfly that it was free to fly.
Maya had decided on different. She had put on her yellow dress, and her green flip flops. Something in her was resolute. She had walked towards the door, but instead of turning its knob she turned to climb out the window. And now, in that calm sunset, after the thunderstorm Maya, with umbrella in her hand smiled, and beside her fluttered the pink butterfly.
Little did she know, it was smiling, and so was Chad.
And they walked off into the sunset, in opposite directions, but he knew they will meet again, outside this glass box because that day, she jumped, with all her might.
(this entry is dedicated to Ali Imran K and the words in italics are his. thanks for reminding me Ali :) )
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