Being a widow isn't easy for her. Her husband is gone. Now who is going to bring back those colours of happiness, of smiles, of laughter, of belonging, of care, of comfort?
Being a widow isn't easy for her. The society is harsh. It wants her to be draped only in white. She isn't allowed to enjoy festivals like Holi. "What crime have I committed ", she asks, "to be punished in such a way?"
Being a widow isn't easy for her. Today, on Holi, people throw her an eye of sympathy. "I don't need it", she says. "If you care so much then come, put some colours on me and be brave enough to break these futile conventions." // And then when someone is offended by your conduct, say to them," Bura na maano, Holi hai." //
But even if you don't help... what of that? She is gonna shine with her own light and paint the canavas of her life with her own colours.