I Yearn To Paint
I yearn to paint with the pink colour of life
Pink from a missy’s blushing cheeks, which reveal her unannounced love.
Pink from the rose in her tresses, which her lover gifted.
Pink from her soft lips, which experienced the warm kiss.
I yearn to paint with the green colour of life
Green from the plant of Tulsi, which a mother waters every morn.
Green from the bangles in her wrist, which sing a lullaby.
Green from the banana leaf, which holds lovingly cooked meals.
I yearn to paint with the black colour of life
Black from the speck of kohl, which protects from evil eyes.
Black from the piece of charcoal, Hung from the door.
Black from the eyes, which cast evil eyes.
I yearn to paint with red colour of life
Red from a martyr’s blood, which stained the battlefield.
Red from the pyre’s fire, which cremated his body.
Red from his widow’s vermilion, which deserted her parting.
I yearn to paint with the white colour of life
White from the Imperialists’ skin, against whose rule, the Father fought.
White from the salt of Dandi, which became his weapon.
White from the cotton thread, which spun the fabric of a nation.