Shades of Joy: Rohan's Journey to Embrace Blue

In a village bathed in twilight's hush,

Where laughter danced and colors did crush,

Lived Rohan, a boy with eyes so bright,

Yet a curious glint that dimmed his light.

Holi's eve draped the houses in glee,

Red marigolds winked from every tree.

Yellows and greens, a riot so grand,

But Rohan's heart yearned for cooler sand.

He watched, entranced, as villagers spun,

Mixing crimson, saffron, hues of the sun.

But his gaze kept drifting to the west,

Where twilight's embrace painted the sky its best.

A deep, calming blue, serene and vast,

A counterpoint to the vibrant blast.

Rani, his Nani, with eyes like the night,

Saw the dejection that dimmed his light.

"Rohan," she said, her voice soft and low,

"Why the long face when colors do flow?"

He sighed, a whisper, a hesitant plea,

"Nani, I love blue, not the colors I see."

A knowing smile touched Rani's wise face,

"Ah, my dear boy, there's beauty in place

For every hue, a story untold,

Not just in the vibrant, but colors less bold."

She led him inside, a twinkle in her eye,

To a room where brushes danced to the sky.

Indigo blues swirled on a canvas so bare,

A world of serenity waiting to share.

"Holi's a dance," Rani's voice did impart,

"Of joy and release, a joyous restart.

But colors, my dear, hold a deeper design,

A space for reflection, a calmness divine."

Intrigued, Rohan dipped his brush in the blue,

Creating mandalas, a calming hue.

Sapphire marigolds, a sight to behold,

And cerulean clays, stories yet untold.

The night deepened, the moon climbed so high,

Grandmother and grandson, beneath the vast sky.

Holi's day dawned, a vibrant display,

Children squealed, colors lighting their way.

Rohan stood hesitant, his heart filled with dread,

Clutching his pouch of calming blue instead.

A group of children, with laughter so bright,

Mocked his blue gulal, a strange, joyless sight.

Tears welled in his eyes, his spirit felt low,

But Rani stepped forward, a quiet aglow.

"Children," she said, her voice soft and deep,

"Colors hold stories, secrets they keep."

And then she explained, with a wisdom so grand,

The calming embrace of blue in Holi's hand.

The space for reflection, the quiet inside,

Where devotion can bloom, where worries subside.

The children listened, their eyes wide with awe,

As Rohan stepped forth, shedding all flaw.

He offered his gulal, a beautiful hue,

And soon, laughter echoed, a different kind of crew.

The village square, a canvas so grand,

Blended vibrant hues with Rohan's blue hand.

A tapestry woven, a story untold,

Of joy and reflection, brilliantly bold.

As the day surrendered to the gentle night,

The village basked in a harmonious light.

A testament stood, in the colors so bright,

That joy finds its solace in the calmness of night.