She scurried around, supervising the festoons, painting the Rangolis. The saris arrived, I watched her in awe as she sorted the bunch, tending to individual preferences.
“Green for your aunt, red for your cousin, I’ve kept your favourite bright shades away.” She winked, as she picked an off- white one for herself.
“Sit here Ma.” I pulled her close. “Baba’s long gone, you’ve tended to all my needs, kept everyone happy. It’s my wedding, and I won’t let your life be colourless anymore.”
She turned misty-eyed as I replaced the white drape with her beloved blue sari, Baba’s last gift.

Word  Impact  Challenge  March  2021
 
                                      Colour
 
                          Memory  flash  lane
                                       **
Ragiya’s memory  lane  of  Holi  flashed  thirty  years  back  to  her childhood.  She has an elder brother. Their papa   had bought  some pichkaris and  various  colour  powder for them on the  previous  day  of  Holi . She was only six years  old  then.  Brother was very  much  excited. But   she  was fear stricken. She  had  seen  neighbours  playing  and  dancing  in fully coloured  faces  and  bodies. That was  a
terrific  sight  to her. Hence, Pappa gave her a few  balloons
filled  with water to play. When  her children  were  playing
with colours  today  joyfully  she just remembered  those days.            
                                       **       
   
 
 
 

Seven years old Raghavendra ran away from the temple and stormed inside his room in deep agitation.
He was very disturbed by the sight of his father’s men pushing away Gopal bhaiyya and thrashing him because he had crossed Raghvendra- Zamindar’s son’s way towards his first temple visit!
 
When Raghav tried to protest, his grandmother silenced him saying, “These shepherd’s kids are stinky and uncouth villagers! May God protect my Lalla from the dark complexion of these cowherds!”
However, once inside the temple he was shell-shocked to see grandmother prostrate in the feet of another cowherd- the dark-skinned village-dwelling Krishna!

“Aunty, the red roses need trimming. I will shift the white begonias to the shade and remove the withered milli flowers. I have got fertilizer for the yellow hibiscus.” Saying so, Amit continued his work while she smiled, watering the plants. She could feel the colors as he spoke. Before Amit became her neighbor, all she saw was black.
Amit relocated to bring her out of the shell she pushed herself into. He refrained to tell her that he was the kid she saved in an accident, thereby losing her eyesight ten years ago. Their bonding and the garden bloomed.

Antara, watched her mother everyday, when she took her out for a walk. She was hardly able to walk on her own and needed support to walk even a couple of steps. Old _ age had paid a havoc with her health. The aches and pain had caged her beautiful smile.
That evening, when Antara took her for a walk, she met her friend Jiya and stopped to chat with her.
Suddenly , Antara’s eyes fell on her mother. She was holding the hands of a toddler , who had managed to spill all the paints on her mother’s sari. Yet , she was amused to see her mother smiling like a rainbow , after ages. As the toddler’s nanny arrived to pick her up, Antara’s mother held her hand tightly and kissed her. The missing colours had returned in her life amazingly.
©
Aditi Lahiry
 
 
 
 
 

The man kept advancing.
The girl tugged hard at her shoe but the heel remained stuck in the cracked pavement. Terror building in her breast, she glanced up, again, at the approaching filthy, stinking figure.
The alley was completely deserted!
Pulling her foot free, she had just decided to drop her sandal and make a run for it, when the man reached her.
She opened her mouth to scream but the sound froze in her throat, as the stranger sprinkled some gulaal gently on her head.
Then, muttering Holi Holi’ he bounded away, his face a picture of unadulterated joy.
Sreeja Mohandas.

In a realm faraway,
“ Mirror, on the wall, who is supreme of all?”
Rioting colours, Light hues and dark , seek counsel,
Mirror’s reflections- World, a Kaleidoscope,
Colours add spice, showcase the wonder of creation,
Neither superior nor inferior, colours make a splash, together.
Dispute resolved; colours vouch for harmony.

In the realm of humans,
“Mirror, on the wall, which skin colour, supreme of all?”
Mirror’s  revelations “Humans are packages in colourful wrappers,
Sliver of divinity shining within, deeming all equal; all lives precious,
The colour of humanity  in hearts, is the most supreme”,
Truth revealed; can discrimination stop?

“It’s Holi! And I am away from home!”
Promita travels down memory lane to the cacophonous and chromatic Calcutta. How long has it been since she boarded a canary yellow taxi? That too, after countless refusals. She wonders if those blue private buses still ply, racing against each other like madmen to haul as many passengers on board. Instinctively, she mutters a silent prayer to Ma Kali. That ebony face with a red tongue protruding out still induces goosebumps. She realises that colours always have been an integral part of her childhood. If only she had taken notice of them!