In the silence that surrounds the womb of aloofness
A familiar voice calls me,
Asking,” Which color are you?”
Are you the pink that Maa draped you in?
When you insisted to match her grace?
Are you the blue like the cap you wore around?
To do away with the horrors of being out casted from your gang.
Or are you the purple, oh the secret scarlet purple,
Like the ink that you chose to inscribe your forbidden love for her,
The purple letters you never really could deliver.
Are you the red, the red that you found your solace in?
Burying one love and budding another, in the bloody graveyard.
Or somewhere between those yellows and greens that led you into queer confusion
When you saw them together, making merry.
The Voice grows deeper, more profound and enquires,
Are you the white, that pure, which cloaks your Being,
What they see you for.
Or are you the black, the one that ignites your darkness,
that you pall over, denying it to beam out and shine.
A storm outbreaks, silence shatters and and voice spills
Like the waters that I am, that accepts as its own all the colors
Without bias,without questions.