Green and Grey.

Of the eternal quest for the impossible
Of some semblance of its silhouette in the horizon.

Of a threshold for tolerance to stupidity
Of people doing their best to cross it.

Of an utter distaste for mediocrity
Of having to suffer it every single day.

Of a prisoner's freedom
Of her cognition of that freedom.

Of relief, just plain old relief.

Some life, this.

Tangerine.

Of roasted almond ice-creams,
And chocolate sprinkle toppings.

Of a nice long walk with mama,
Under the orange sky of an almost rainy evening.

Of a renewed romance with Jagjit Singh's eternity.
And old Bollywood numbers
That papa would put me off to sleep with.

Of an old passion, and my love-hate relationship with it.

Some life, this.