The Colourful Predicament

“You could never impose yourself. You are truly weak.” said White, in the snappy fashion that he was notorious for.  Light Yellow felt bad enough that he was the one feeling White’s wrath today, but this last accusation felt most incredulous.

“Huh. You are one to talk about imposing-“

“I have a job! I am the base! You exist because I am, so don’t you even...”

The Monthly Conference of Colours had just ended and it had been nothing less than a nightmare for Light Yellow. A strict legislation had been passed that each colour must carry a title that best suited its ability or how it was globally perceived. Light Yellow had had the worst end of this deal.

White now sounded more scornful than ever, “I mean, Baby Blue got a better title than you LY. What was it? Cute? Pfft. I would have died, make no mistake, but she seemed happy enough. But yours though, I must say, sounds oddly accurate.”

That stung and LY visibly flinched. Light Yellow the Weak, he repeated in his mind, and a horrible sensation engulfed him. White was a member of the executive panel of the committee and had been allowed to choose his titles. White the Pure, the Peaceful, blah blah, thought LY, envious and disgusted. Any colour who knew White, and they all did, agreed that White was far from pure and the proposition of him being peaceful was laughable. LY had to protest.

“It’s so unfair. Something must be done. The others, they don’t know me. How can they vote me as the Weak? I say they are weak!” said LY, close to tears now.

White perceived a storm was brewing. One of his titles he had chosen was ‘the Wise’, and it was an opportune moment to show exactly why.

“Really? Tell me, then, what should be done?”

LY thought for a moment before replying, “I don’t know. But someone must do something!”

“And who should it be?” asked White, gradually moving towards his point.

“Uh...someone in power, of course.” said LY in a matter-of-factly tone.

“And what does that make you, LY?” asked White, knowing very well that no reply was forthcoming. LY was stumped, and as awareness dawned, he realised that he had been robbed of the power to retort, a power he never really possessed anyway.

“You see,” White continued now as he wrapped up his paperwork and made his way out of the Conference Hall, “this makes you powerless, LY, hence your title. It’s not your abilities that make you weak, it’s your attitude. We all don’t get superficial titles as the one gained by Baby Blue. More often than not, you have to earn your title and prove it to all who doubt you.

“Gold is royal, Violet is pompous, your big brother, Yellow, he is brilliant, all for a reason. And I,” White gave a subtle smile, “I am pure, peaceful and wise in more ways than you can imagine. And LY, you now have the greatest gift of all, actually. You have a chance to prove all of us wrong, to do away with this tag of being weak, and earn a title that you desire. It all depends, as I said, on your attitude.”

LY was dumbfounded. White the Wise had made sense, and once one cut through the verbiage, the message was crystal clear.

White poked his head back into the room one last time,

  “Start today. One day, your big brother will be proud of you.”