Colours of Light
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Light dazzles my eyes,
as the sparks emitted
come in every conceivable
shape, colour and size:
They fill up the staid autumn sky,
setting my heart a flutter
like all those butterflies – daylong
hovering around garden paths,
sucking nectar from
flowers of every colour and form,
that are now in full bloom
amidst the houses and barns
of my childhood fantasies
from all the classic novels
I’d keep my head buried in,
that would take me to another world,
to hide from the reality of my situations.
These Diwali shards of brilliant light
now ignite my mind’s eye,
setting my thoughts racing wild
to when I was a child of nine
and sorely afraid of the dark:
Such that, I’d close my eyes and run
to the light switch boards on the far wall,
of my boarding school dormitory hall,
if I came up to my locker out of time —
feeling my way with my hands,
panicking but managing not to fall,
like playing blind-man’s-buff with my fears,
wherein I was to extricate myself from them
so I couldn’t lose my sense of self ever again —
in the flurry of adult life, when at work
I’d fight for my rights and my self esteem,
not act a victim in the circumstances:
When it’d take a turn into a dark alley of any man
trying to overpower me with their clout,
throwing me overboard many a times
but always providing me from my own torch —
strong beams of logical reasoning and light,
to guide my confident and unique strides.
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