She stared at the smog and it flashed a face back at her with another round of colours that clogged her senses.
It’s indeed a true saying!
Vinod sat still and looked out of his window. The lockdown was over but his work kept him in the city. His friends were working from home from their hometowns. It was so that his room mate too left him yesterday on long weekend to celebrate Holi with his family on a farmhouse.
She always thought about colours and what they looked like. In her world of solid black, she longed to see these colours that people spoke about.
The streets used to be alive with this ditty, “Bura na mano, Holi hai!!”, when we were carefree youngsters growing up in posh South Delhi.
We, humans are the only species on the planet who are divided by states, countries, continents. I don’t find this sort of difference in nature.
Read this colorful essay on Holi by Hema Panwar
Even though Ariana had been playing holi since childhood, this year seemed very special. Read this beautiful microtale spun by Kirti Santosh
The moment I saw her everything around me was serene. It might be because of the devotional vicinity. Her pink dupatta with golden border was elegantly matching with the green shade of her kurti and the French braid open brown hairs were freshly washed and smelled pleasant. Her nails were painted red and perfectly twinned the ankle length legging she wore.