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Sunshine Yellow
Sunshine Yellow
★★★★★

© Garima Behal

Abstract Drama Inspirational

4 Minutes   38.0K    567


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I still remember your favorite colour. Sunshine yellow. Bright, dazzling, unapologetic, vibrant yellow.

I still remember you looking at the sample paint at the hardware store, your eyes barely taking in the watermelon red, the sky blue, the baby pink, the grassy green and the soothing lilac. Your gaze was held by the sunshine yellow, a half smile on your beautiful face. It was because of you that I ordered two buckets of the loud paint, and supervised the paint-job, imagining how I was going to spend the entire day in a house that shone like the blinding sun.

 Sunshine yellow. There was something magical about it to you. Wasn’t it? The colour spoke to you a language only you knew- the language of sheer joy.

When I used to wear my yellow sari with the hot pink border, you would grin one of your goofy grins, before coming up close to me, nuzzling me and whispering in my ear, in your sweet voice, “I love this sari of yours. You look so amazing in yellow.” I used to wear it every week, just so I could hear the happiness in your voice and glimpse the love in your eyes. The complimentary kisses I got for it were an added bonus.

I had bought a sunshine yellow dress with dainty little buttons in the front, and short side pockets, just to wear it for you. You insisted on me wearing it, every time we went out to the sea, to the shopping mall, to the Botanical Garden, to fancy restaurants and to parties. While we slept, you would put your hands in the pockets and hug me tight, snuggling comfortably, basking in the colour of my dress and the warmth of my body.

You would refuse to eat any other dal except the chana dal I would cook. You did not dig the taste as much as the colour. Sunshine yellow, the only dal you loved.

The sight of juicy pulpy dussehri mangoes, golden apples and bananas would instantly cheer you up, though you loved oranges, peaches and strawberries too. The difference a little sprinkling of yellow made!

I began to love the colour, too, since you adored it.

I planted sunflowers in our lawn, so that when you came back tired, the first thing you would see was the yellow. Every morning, while you got ready to leave, I would open the window of the sunshine yellow room, to let some sunshine in. Your face would light up, soaking in the brilliant golden rays, as the sunflowers opened up in the lawn.

But, today, even though the yellow is still there, the sunshine is missing. The sunflowers open up, hoping to delight you with their bright faces, every morning. I still open the windows to your room to let the sunshine in, but there is no sign of the cheery smile that once used to light up your face. It left with you, perhaps, leaving the walls of your room bereft of warmth and colour and vivacity and life.

Arjun, you were and always will be the only love of my life.

How cruel it is that you should have gone so young, my darling son, while I still go on, privy to all the sunshine that should have been yours? I saw your white face, cold, dead, when you were just 9 and how I wished for the glow of life to illuminate your face. There was no yellow in the hospital room, only blinding white tube lights, white coats of doctors, white walls and white disinfected marble floors.

The car that hit you was your favorite colour. You had wanted one like it, when you would grow up!

There would be no growing up now. No bright yellow cars. No checked yellow shirts for you to wear at the office. No happy yellow room to come home to. No sunflowers blooming to welcome you. No chana dal boiling in the cooker, in anticipation of your arrival.

But, now that you are in heaven, I know, you would be spreading your sunshine there, too. I know, you are there, smiling upon me, as I reminisce of you, painting the heavens and the afternoon skies a lively, sunshine yellow! 

mother's love colours yellow sunshine happiness hope

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