Why are you so scornful of rainbow, they ask me. I tell them that I too had a rainbow sheltering me from heat and storm of the day, a beautiful face, some handsome men, some good men- two good men to be precise- no, one good man actually, and then he left, my father died along the road, my mother went away, and I was with wine whole day. But it was an opportunist like you. It consumed me more than I consumed it. And now at the end of the road, I sit here before a mirror and talk to you about myself, about yourself. I wish I had talked to you at the other end. My rainbow would have still been there I guess.