top of page

Holi Hues Are My Fragments

Jan 3, 2024
2 min read

Updated: Jan 19, 2024

By Anisha Gupta



Neela Rang (Blue Colour) 


I mulched my dreams into a cerulean hue,

Picked the fragile-mirrored foam like berries from the sky.

Crushed, into the mortar with pestle and pea butterfly. 

- Incomplete dreams


Laal Rang (Red Colour)


A palm-sized thornbush grows in our verandah crack, I was a kid back at 5.

Tracing the generational upheaval in my blood lines.

Brushing the cheek on the floor to find myself adjacent to the bush.

I chewed my only world, pricking my mouth to a garnet lush.

- Swallowed trauma down the line


Hara Rang (Green Colour)


The more sunlight I started seeking,

Them the seedlings sprouted on the home in me,

And the days it rained red a little bit too much,

I let my skin sink in bed,

Some limelight plants drowned in me- coloured my mind in green dread.

- Like periods like moods




Peela Rang (Yellow Colour)


I gave a side-eye hanging on the wobbly railings,

To my mother jerking my pale cousins off them.

I was drenched in sweat from all that hate; I mean heat.

She left me pulling up the bar,

Just so I could learn some lessons,

And forbid bruising my body of turmeric sins.

-White clothes on the line


Gulabi Rang (Pink Colour)


He planted a kiss on my cheeks

While juicing the cherry in his left palm.

A turn of pale blue flush on his face,

As I rubbed a healthy relation on his wounds;

He took my forever leave with a smoothie bowl in his hands.

He cracked open my cheeks pouring out blush-a souvenir from his fangs.

- His Mischievous love


By Anisha Gupta




Recent Posts

See All
Dumb or In Love

By Kavya Mehulkumar Mehta are poets dumb — or just in love? to the world, they may seem dumb, but for them, love is inevitable. poems are reminders of love that can’t be forgotten, shan’t be forgotten

 
 
 
A Future So Azure

By Inayah Fathima Faeez Tomorrow looms unsure, muffled by the deep Thumbs twiddling, barriers never-ending, failure and nothing to reap At the shore lie the choices, imposing, leading to journeys impo

 
 
 
Letting Go In Layers

By Inayah Fathima Faeez Some part of us is cold and shrivelled, In a body of seemingly endless depth. Some part of us is heavy and dishevelled, Misery filling an unending breadth. Some part of us is

 
 
 

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page