A Splash of Color

Sunlight spills like laughter on the courtyard walls,

A canvas splashed with vibrant revelry.

But Maya sits, an island stark and white,

Amidst the joyous tide of Holi's glee.

Her saree, once a canvas for his playful touch,

Now hangs a shroud, devoid of festive hue.

Memories dance, phantoms in the dust,

Of laughter shared, and battles fought anew.

Red powder, then, a symbol of their fight,

A playful war with love's sweet consequence.

Now, on her hand, a crimson stain ignites,

A ghost from feasts of bygone merriment.

Aching absence hangs heavy in the air,

A hollowness where passion used to bloom.

The echoes of his laughter pierce her prayer,

Leaving behind a heart consumed by gloom.

But then, a symphony of giggles breaks the hush,

A kaleidoscope of colors fills the scene.

Children, faces painted, come with eager rush,

Their vibrant hues a balm, a vibrant sheen.

"Naani," they chirp, eyes bright with festive cheer,

"Come play with us! Don't let the colors fade!"

Their tiny hands, outstretched, erase her fear,

As crimson powder on her white is sprayed.

A hesitant smile blossoms on her face,

A tear escapes, a bittersweet release.

The stain of red, a mark of love's embrace,

Now whispers hope, a chance for inner peace.

They paint her hand, a mirror of their own,

A tapestry of joy, where sorrow sleeps.

The courtyard, once a stage for grief alone,

Now holds the promise that the future keeps.

Maya, reborn in laughter's vibrant call,

Sees colors dance, where only gray remained.

The crimson stain, a symbol after all,

Of love's enduring flame, forever ingrained.