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.
