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Homely colors of our Kathmandu

How often have you noticed the colors around you? 

Colors are the crayons I used to scribble with; colors are the red tikas my ama adorned every morning; colors were the cotton candies that I hooked my eyes onto as a child. 

Colors were my grandmother’s sarees; colors were the red, orange, yellow tika that we worshipped with; colors were the red mud bricks of my old town. Colors were the dulahi’s (bride’s) shringar. 

Colors were the hues of emotions; colors were the shades of my moods.

Colors are my food. Colors are the forgotten nostalgia of my childhood; they are the deserted desires I looked away from to run after the wise things to do; they are the left behind whims, imaginations, and dreams. 

Colors are still a part of my life.