Me at the museum

It was a first, travelling alone and all. Perhaps the statement would not be fair to myself. I have travelled to my school, to nearby places in my town. Travel seems be a strong word. Our ancestors fought storms to 'travel' across the ocean, they traversed snowy mountains, they 'travelled' miles across the desert, leagues into the sea. To say I travelled to the museum today might bring a frown to their faces. It took me no more than an hour to get there.

I love museums, one thing about them would be how they manage to excite both the child and the adult in us. It was a much needed change of air that I needed. Perhaps I was lucky i was able to find happiness.

Travelling alone scares me. Here I am, legally an adult whining about how unsafe I feel  in public. I am afraid, it is the people that scares me. The fear of hearing a voice calling your  name from behind. Me from 2 years ago would have had a different story altogether. Sometimes he would even proudly say I have travelled to Bangalore by train all by myself. You think growing up purges all your fears, but sometimes they scar you, a scar you never see with your eye, but one that might stay forever.

 I've already taken enough dark turns for a narrative concerning a museum and me. Onward with my story. I step into a bronze museum where they have these sculptures. More than the sculptures I could say proudly that the air conditioning had a better effect on me staying in there for nearly all morning. I was lucky enough to be in time to tag along with a tour group of foreigners with my best bet of them being Europeans. I wanted to talk but my deep self shunned me. They are silly aren't they? Why do they need to come all the way to learn us? Not more sillier than me learning their culture for bragging rights I would say.

I saw a whale skeleton as long as a small church, a sea turtle as big as a car, an African lion who could fit at least two of me in its body without any effort. Well if that wasn't enough, the amphibian and reptile department took my appetite away. Perspective changes lead to character development doesn't it?

The art gallery was the breath taker in spite of all this. No it is not the modern art. They were great yes but my head was already shutting down because of my ignored appetite. I can say it would be the one if the reason which made me feel the kind of awe I have never felt before. Here I find myself in a dimly lit room three walls adorned  with larger-than-life sized oil portraits of the redcoat governors of the State all staring at me with nothing but power and grandeur. The  paintings gave them a nearly god like attribute, an unstoppable command, a face which you never want to see frown, a heart of stone, a guardian you'd dare not question. It could be their adornments, the blood red coat, the medals, the hand resting on the sheathed sword, or maybe even their own face, the Sphinx that keeps you wondering.

Maybe when I'm older, I would charter an oil painting for myself too. Tremble before my will!