The Great Yellow

First, let's see what my boy Herm has to say about the color of the world. (Before you run retching into wild, please understand that I've spent the last 5 days with IRB protocols and critical care papers. Your tolerance is appreciated.)

"And when we consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other earthly hues- every stately or lovely emblazoning- the sweet tinges of sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtile deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only laid on from without; so that all deified Nature absolutely paints like the harlot, whose allurements cover nothing but the charnel-house within; and when we proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic which produces every one of her hues, the great principle of light, for ever remains white or colorless in itself, and if operating without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and roses, with its own blank tinge- pondering all this, the palsied universe lies before us a leper; and like wilful travellers in Lapland, who refuse to wear colored and coloring glasses upon their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes himself blind at the monumental white shroud that wraps all the prospect around him. And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol. Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?"

Ok, so a bit superfluous but bear with me, I'll bring it home.

Today as I walked down good old Civil Supply Godown with Kalyan, on the way to the library for the 5th day in a row, I turned to him and said through the venetian slits that have become my eyes these days, "Is it just me or is the light different here?"

You see, I can't quantify or explain it, but the light here absolutely ruins my eyes if I don't wear sunglasses. I don't know if it is just me, but I think not. I mean how many green or blue eyed Indian people (kashmiris and bollywood stars don't count) have you ever seen? Obviously there is something being selected against. Perhaps it explains why my ancestors ran squinting into battle alongside Alexander only to be driven out of the Indus Valley with our togas between our legs. I mean surely Blublockers weren't invented until at least the 17th century.

However Melville would have us believe that all light is the same whether in Boston or Bangalore... made up of pure white heat, and that all deviation is merely deceit. So why would rays from mama sol here charbroil my retinas when in New York they just tickle my rods and caress my cones with their fingertips? The only explanation I can come up with is that there is a flaw in Melville's logic. The light in New York, Nantucket, and New Zealand... lands he was known to haunt on his 4 year tours.... may be pure pale fire, but as the earth warms up along its steamy waistline, here in India, it is stained with henna, turmeric and saffron. And thus, instead of painting our sallow protagonist like the slapper he yearns to be, it leaves him burnt, blind, and disoriented.

Don't believe me? Check this out:



Trust me. I'm not trying to trick you with a typical sunset passed off as midday. This was taken at 2pm! It looks like the iodine tincture of the world is going to diffuse in and stain our daintily whitewashed concrete wallpaper. Doesn't it? Er... which is to say it looks really yellow... like sticky stainy, clorox-won't-cut-it yellow.

So if you haven't seen me in a while... and you notice that my skin has taken on a certain hue... please be kind and understand... at least all of you Indian kids will understand why my right hand is stained yellow (not what you think... i do that with the other hand)

And if you're coming by the house sometime soon and think that we're not in. Just ring the bell. Odds are we're home, maintaining our natural pallors. Wonder ye then at the croconic cowardice?*

*I'll put up a normal post sometime not too far away when something other than work happens.