A blanket of colors
on the road, in the air,
on their skins and everywhere
while I stand clean, craning.
A peculiar boy,
much my age
seems too alive
to drench even the sun.
His eyes spot me
his face masked in color dust
yet I see him smirk.
Dammit.
– Vaishali
– Vaishali
Shared with: Words Count With Mama Zen
Today in India we celebrate Holi, the festival of
colors. Water guns, balloons filled with water and colors are a major delight
for most and a nightmare for some. I like to watch people play Holi but you
hit me with one of those balloons and you’ll get a pokerface from me. Nothing
else. :D
