Colours of Love: White

Many have attributed love to varied hues,

And they may have gotten their colours right.

But I only know this much to be true;

That love has surrounded me day and night.

Love is the colour of the sealed envelope

That my mother tears open with a haunting scream.

It is the grief caused by the demolition of hope,

And the solace that she still meets him in her dreams.

Love is the colour of my mother’s sari

As she steps to her beloved’s pyre and sets it alight.

It is the selflessness that would fight Hades’s army,

And the strength that convinces me, that we’ll be alright.

Love is also the colour of the striped collar

That is worn by my four-pawed best friend.

It is the unfaltering loyalty that runs beyond measure

And the wagging tail that makes my heart mend.

Love is the colour of the desk we first hold hands under,

As two teenagers unaware of the depth of their feelings.

It is the innocence that makes us afraid of causing blunders,

And the caution that ostracises deceit and cheating.

Love is the colour of the bouquet of flowers

That he sends me from thousands of miles away.

It is the time we share amongst the busiest of hours,

And the life we build in our sterling ways.

Love is the colour of the kurta he wears

As he guides my hand seven times around a fire.

It is the immortal tether that our souls bear.

And the promise to treasure, nurture and inspire.

Love is the colour of the milkshake he makes me,

No matter what time or place I crave one.

It is the excitement we feel about completing our family,

And the fright of failing before we’ve even begun.

Love is the colour of the sheets I lay on,

When my arms first hold her tiny frame.

It is the instinct to protect and coddle our newborn.

And the welcome thought of things never being the same.

Love is the colour of the ribbons in her hair

As he braids them every morning without fail.

It is the dedication with which we exercise care,

And the sacrifices we make for her smile to prevail.

Love is the colour of the acceptance letter

That inducts her into the best of the best.

It is the tremendous pride we feel for our daughter,

And the bitter sadness of an empty nest.

Love is also the colour of her dress

As she walks down the aisle to her bride.

It is the swelling of joy and the tears we can’t repress,

And the regret of how long they were forced to hide.

Love is the colour of the home left behind,

As our mortal bodies give up part by part.

It is the peace I bring to the din of his mind,

And the life he breathes into my dwindling heart.

Many have attributed love to varied hues,

And they may have gotten their colours right.

But now I know this much to be true

That love for me, has always been white.

Written by Ishita Sharma for MTTN

Edited by Aditi Atreya for MTTN

Featured Image by Boyana Petkova

Artwork by Willem Haenraets