What even is a lemon candy without yellow or orange?
What kind of laddu has no yellow and no black raisins?
Can a jalebi even be a jalebi without orange?
Can school days truly be called school days without white Lunar sandal in with little blue vines on them?
Isn’t childhood in a uniform of white and blue itself a colorful memory?
Every memory has its colors.
Happy memories — they shine in vibrant hues, full of clarity and beauty.
The ones with pain or sadness — the colors seem faded, worn away.
Like how no matter how hard you try, you just can’t remember the color of the teacher’s saree who scolded you for forgetting your homework.
Aren’t different shades just different forms of love?
To hold onto memories, they must be colored well.
And the memory of love…
Shouldn’t it spread around us like richly painted, unmixed colors? ❤
(This “red love” feeling — blue love could never quite match that, right? 😃)