I was about to take a pen from stationary and I found that only choice that I had was for Red pen and I went long back into past. I didn’t use to like red color at all sometime and with time, I have developed habit of at least bearing with this color.
There was enough time to think about the history of why I always disliked Red color although many people love it. Walking towards Light Rail station at Crossman, I realized that this is one of the characteristics which remained attached to me since my childhood when I had just started going to school. That time the only pen color teacher used was Red. I didn’t like the crosses on notebooks which were obviously of same color. The test marks (although I used to do well) were given in Red color. Any remarks on school diary (now that’s where I was always counted as naughty) were also written in Red color. If many of these things weren’t bad for me, I used to feel bad for the ones who cursed themselves on getting something really Red. Red became synonym of evil for me with time. It was the color most avoided, be it anywhere, not only pens but food, cards, gifts, clothes, books and even the blood.
Later on, as I grew, even the tutors started using pens of other colors but the stamp on mind remained as fresh as sweet lemonade. I could never run out of my this haphazard inclination (with additions with likes of red for communism etc.). After trying overriding it, all I could manage was not to whammy about Red but still not accepted it personally. There happen to be many instances that I disliked/rejected girls just because they loved Red color or they were wearing the one all over…funny eh.
