Whenever someone has asked me, “what is your favourite colour?”, I have promptly said “White”, even though, strictly speaking, ‘white is not a colour’. My infatuation with white, especially in my choice of apparel, dates back to my childhood when I used to admire my father in those crisp starched cottons – all white.

White denotes purity and peace, and how rightly so! We all know that the white rays of light are in fact a mixture of different coloured rays which may be likened to different emotions, desires and pulls of the mind. It is only when they are mixed with each other in the right proportions that we get white light – peace of mind whereon there is no poll or push. There is only equilibrium and that is white. White is also pure in character. It returns all the light that falls on it, unlike other colours which keep back something for themselves. No wonder, we see them in a ‘different light’!

However, strangely enough, whenever I have worn white, I have had unusual experiences like the story of the boy who underwent a metamorphosis whenever he sat on the throne of Vikramaditya. In my case, however, the happenings were unpleasant. I really don’t understand why strange things have to happen only to me. I wonder if it has to do with my unusual birth date and time, viz. 13th December, 13 hours and 13 minutes.

No!No!No! I am not whimsical. Being scientifically inclined, initially, I myself dismissed the happenings as pure coincidence and that is why, till date I have yet preserved my white apparel. But now, after over twenty years of statistical evidence, I have accepted the “strangeness” of my experiences whenever I wore white.

I clearly remember, I bought myself a complete set of new white clothes from my first earnings (extension of my childhood infatuation). The first day, as I wore them and strutted the streets like a proud peacock, I observed the ‘EYES’ were turned on me – and I walked even more proudly. It was only when too many eyes were turned on me with sounds of suppressed giggles that I realized something was amiss! Yes! Someone had inadvertently spat ‘pan’ on my trousers and my crisp shirt was soiled with bird droppings! The crown prince was thus anointed!

Reflecting back, I remember that the first time I proposed to a girl, I wore white. Incidentally, my wife is not that girl! And when I first met my wife, I did not wear white. Now I wish I had! (especially after every heated argument I have with her!) Not surprisingly, there are more heated arguments on the days I wear white. And it is not only with her it could be with the cabbie, or rickshawwallah, or my colleagues, or even the Boss! My God! At such times, how I wish I had taken a pair of scissors and done the needful! Nut being scientifically inclined (or is it the lure of adventure of experimenting with the unusual), I have so far controlled myself.

It is not only arguments. Strange things would happen as well – always unpleasant. I might miss the bus, or the train, or not get a window seat in the train, or get the third seat, or get a seat next to two fat women, or the train get delayed, or people would stamp on my well polished shoes in the crowded compartment, or I might miss a step while walking, or sprain my foot, or spill tea on my clothes, or get grease marks on my dress while getting in or out of the car, or the car, which till yesterday was alright, starts getting cranky, or have a flat tyre in the middle of a traffic jam, or go miles and spend hours to meet someone whom I finally can’t meet, or fail to cross the path of the cat before it crosses mine … in short the day does not go along at all as planned.

Only yesterday, I wore white and while closing the bedroom window before going to work, I found that the stopper was malfunctioning, I used a little force to close the window – it broke! This took a little time, and I missed my bus. I took a rickshaw; it had no shock-absorbers! The driver drove fast, but there was an unusual traffic jam! I was late; I felt I could sneak into the office, but the Boss was right at the entrance!

Later in the day, I met Rukshaan. She reminded me about writing an article for our Hextonian. I thought for some time and started writing about my experiences with white. Between you and me, I have a strange feeling again that it may not find itself in print! Let’s wait and see, I have still not used the scissors!