Green

by Mitra Samal / September 25th, 2022

Mother says that I shouldn’t wear
green, that’s not our colour
But then green are the huge mountains
cloaked by the numerous leaves of trees
The greenish water of lakes washing
it’s already soaked feet, the green
grass and the green moss on the rocks
How isn’t green our colour if it is of
the beautiful nature!
Also weren’t my grandma’s eyes green,
like emerald green and the prettiest
Mother however isn’t convinced, says
that I shouldn’t wear green to the
weddings and dare not wear it on Diwali
She wears bangles of colours none
other than red or orange and speaks
that only those are auspicious
It’s a divine gift to see all colours mother
Celebrate the beauty of your vision
We live in a colourful world and each
colour must belong to us
I am not more Hindu in orange or ochre
Green doesn’t make me a Muslim
We all have the same God, and I don’t
think He is biased about the colours

Mitra Samal is from Bhubaneswar, India. She mostly writes poems and occasionally pens down stories. She is a software consultant with a passion for both technology and literature. Her poems have been published in Poetry Society India, Muse India, Borderless Journal, Dissident Voice and The Chakkar among others. Her stories have found place in Spillwords, The Blahksheep and Different Truths so far. She is also an avid reader and a Toastmaster who loves to speak her heart out. Mitra can be reached at @am_mitrasamal on Instagram. Read other articles by Mitra.

This article was posted on Sunday, September 25th, 2022 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.