The white canvas stands opposite me… As I hold the board of various bright colours… Still deciding on the first stroke…! White can adapt any colour…any combination… Yet I fail to make a selection…! This makes me wonder… Do I prefer it as it is…Serene, pure and clear…? “What if I paint you red…?” I ask the canvas. The colour symbolizing two opposite extremes...of love and hatred…! “No, I have never been on the edges, I keep a balance…,” you rightly said! “What if I paint you blue…?” I ask again. The colour of tranquility, royalty and freedom…! You are not convinced, “The uproar inside me also needs a presentation!” “What about pink...?” I inquire. The colour of innocence, beauty and optimism…! You smile and say, “You want me to own the trait of feminism?”… “Ok then the colour green…?” I say. The colour of nature, life, self respect and grace…! “But it holds a thin line of jealousy as well...,” you state. Finally you question- “Why do you want to limit my horizon… A colour would
This November as I peep out of my window, searching for the signs of Winter, the city smiles at my imprudence... It throws some rays of burning sun, The salted wind and sandy cram Introducing itself to me all over again, Repeating its name, repeating its name “I have given you the power to earn, Strengthened your feet to stand, to run I have given you the shelter, the haven, The today and tomorrow of success and fun’ I have accepted you with open arm, Have showered on you all my charm. Yet you feel detached – disconnected, It makes me sad, I feel offended.” This November as I peep out of my window, searching for the signs of Winter, the city puts me under several allegations. “Accept me” it pleads, but I am lost in my own reflections. “You are right’ I begin, “but even I am not wrong. The impression of something on me is rather more strong. I am longing for my town, my native destination I miss its warmth, it love, its affection. You have given me the power to
I grab my luck in my fist. Trying to give it a twist A twist that is favorable! You ask- “If I was able!” I open my fist, see the lines…no alteration in wrinkles…! They are as stubborn as me- the fight is between equals!