Red is the color of my regained youth, which does not depend on how I look, how many of my black hairs have been replaced by grey, or how my skin is aging. But it is represented by my personality, which is vibrant with curiosity to learn and enjoy things that I hadn’t noticed in my daily life earlier and am ready to take new challenges to explore. I am participating in a beauty contest not because I am beautiful but because I have imbibed the beautitude (beauty and attitude).
Yellow is the color of my courage, dug out of my bosom to question norms and taboos which I could never justify through reason but was following along with meekly for ages. I am ready to wear shorts despite the fact that my battered, spotted, brown legs will be on display as they are past waxing due to a surgery. Now I know that I don’t need my neighbor’s approval to wear shorts. After all, she never asked my permission before wearing that red salwar kameez, which gives me the creeps.
Blue is the color of my newfound confidence, which is not ashamed to accept imperfection and shine brighter after each failed attempt. It says, “It’s okay, I am learning—this is what I am here for.”
Brown is the color of my acceptance and love for myself, for I am no longer apologetic for my short height, brown complexion, and poor fashion sense because I have qualities that only a few awakened minds can fathom. When has a rose plant given a damn about the great height of a mango tree?
Purple is the color of my ambitious spirit, which is no longer scared of falling behind in a race. It is confident of winning exactly at the appointed day and has learned to persevere among all odds and sneers for that moment to arrive.
Violet is the color of my guilt-free mind; I no longer feel bad about not taking my mother-in-law for a dental treatment, as I have important work to do—just like her son.
White is the color of my innocence, regained by unlearning a bit of my past, and finding ways to appreciate small things and be happy for everyday blessings, like a single, blooming white flower in my balcony tendered by me, birds chirping outside my window during a sultry afternoon, or winning a prize in a video-making competition. And for the first time in my life, deciding not to wait for the big moments.
Black is the color of my hardened soul, which has learned to put reason before emotion while making a decision, and enforcing it once taken, no matter how difficult it is and how many frowns it earns.
Pink is the color of my blissfulness, which shone as I learned to forgive even the deepest of hurt. I now know that people who have hurt me were more vulnerable than me, they were fighting battles harder than me, and they deserved my love more than my hatred.
Orange is the color of my renunciation, of the slow melting away of the pride I had in my accomplishments. As I explored the world and conversed with it, more mysteries and questions unfurled their beauty to me and this hue continued to seep deeper into my being.
Green is the color of my rebirth at the age of 45, which reminds me that I am complete with my flaws and virtues. That I am strong enough to love the world and comfort it through my embrace. That I am someone with uncountable virtues, which are the gifts I can share with my fellow beings to enlighten their lives. That I am someone with impeccable love, which can mend the fragments of society. And above all, I am someone who can bring God’s message to everyone through my awakening.
Grey is the color of my true self—a mixture of black and white, a concoction of beauty and the beast, a patchwork quilt stitched through the terrains of perfection and imperfection, which yearns for acceptance as it is.
My quest to discover other colors in my flesh and blood continues…
After all, colors are boundless but hidden deep.
Mother earth will reveal them
But only to them,
Their sanctity and glamour who can keep.