My Holi

I don’t even remember

how many years of holi left me

untouched unsmeared by colours.

I don’t know how it feels when

a loved one sprinkles and smears

the  rainbow colours of love:

was it your mellifluous voice

or the magical touch that winged my

feelings to fly away outpacing

the speed of the wind to your

paradise of fresh colours of love?

I sauntered the market looking for

colours unearthly to match you,

looked for the exotic but in vain

nothing pleased me:

I returned with slow heavy steps.

Will this year too the holi would betray

my eager heart and curious soul

empty handed I stood before him

to find in dismay his coloured face

no place was left for me,

but no worry

I had my ways and my dreams

to colour him,

I stepped forward and hugged him

so tight the colours fell off.

I painted his soul with my lips

the long liplock covered the lost years.

How better my holi could have been!!

Sabita sahu