I wish these white-washed walls of my cottage were a bit colourful, probably like wings of a butterfly. I love when the shades change when they flap them. I wish the blue ink my pen spills was a bit colourful, probably like G-Force visualization. I love the way it randomizes itself. I wish the cold pale water in my glass was a bit more colourful, probably like a young lady’s painted lips. Who would not love water droplets on colorful lips which change colour every day? I wish my wooden door was a bit more colourful, probably like an art gallery. I am tired of brown paint on brown wood. I wish a break-up was a bit colourful, probably like a first yes. How can you forget the feeling when whole world gets mute and only thing you hear is her voice …“Yes”. I wish my heart was a bit more colourful, probably like the feelings it holds. Feelings holding a million colours don’t quite fit in a pale heart. I wish the seas and oceans I see from a beach were a bit more colourful, probably like the youth I behold while I stand looking at it. Colours would defiantly add to the music and the hush only sounds of waves can create. Not to forget the thrill of watching it on a full moon night. I wish my purani jeans was a bit more colourful, probably like a hug from the old mate who gifted me that. If only I could spill all my colourful memories with pals on my jeans, I wouldn’t have wished this. Who can forget old mates, the selfless concern and love that they can create? I wish these skies were a bit more colourful, probably like syllables of urdu. I wonder how the world would look if all sounds change to colours. Could we actually ‘see’ what we utter? I wish the air around was a bit colourful. So a child’s innocence could be answered – “bhaiya, agar hawa hoti hai to dikthi kyu nahi?” I wish this city crowd was a bit more colourful, probably like their ‘clothes’. I wish pain was a bit colourful, probably like an artist’s colour pane. I wish music was a bit more colourful. So I could let my eyes ‘watch’ the “eargasms” created by dead sounds. I wish the uniforms of soldiers in a march-past were a bit more colourful, probably like belly dancing. It would have been such a treat to watch instead of enjoying potato chips. I wish the gun’s lead was a bit more colourful. I wish the hospital’s bed was more colourful, probably like a bed of flowers. Yet the only colour we see on hospital sheets is red. I wish if blood was a bit more colorful, probably like the first kiss. That is the only time when your ‘eyes are closed’, yet you see colours flared. Rest time it is all temporary darkness, if not for ever. I wish if dessert sands were a bit more colourful. I wish if the dry rain drops were a bit more colourful, probably like a fat wedding in Punjab. I wish the white plastic chairs lined outside a mortuary were a bit more colourful, probably like first love. When colours spill out and there are no mourning and no wet eyes. I wish the white mint in my pocket was a bit more colourful, probably like fireworks. I lose my freshness the moment I see pale mints. I wish silence between dead couples was a bit more colourful, probably like late night vodka they shared earlier. I wish shaking legs in anxiousness before interview was a bit more colourful, probably like tapping them on dance floor after being promoted. What can match the party you through when your salary is increased? I wish my daily routines were a bit more colourful, probably like pizzas on a weekend. I wish the dentist-in-white-coat was a bit more colourful, probably like a nurse-in-white-skirt. Now this white thing is so damn colourful. I wish fractured bones were a bit more colourful, probably like the touch of velvet, or maybe like a love letter. I wish ‘middle-noon sun’ was a bit more colourful, probably like ‘an early sunrise’. I wish the black tinted glass of my car was a bit more colourful, probably like dark chocolate. I wish my ‘colour-blind’ eyes were a bit more colourful, probably like an old women’s gossip. I wish my life was a bit more colourful, probably like picture post cards. Everything seems so perfect when still and colourful. I wish my blog was a bit more colourful, probably like long-dusty-bound-free-roads, but it is not…
PS : 1) The only thing I actually wish is if this monotonous world was a bit more colourful. Everything else is just a corollary.
2) And I did love to see Sri 420 (movie) in colour. Precisely, the song “mera joota hai japani...”
3) Each line has a double plank. Think about it…
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