Colours have always fascinated me.
As a child, the one gift I consistently asked for—whether from my parents or visiting relatives—was colours. Crayons, colour pencils, watercolours… any. I remember the anticipation more vividly than the gift itself. I would dream of them, imagining the shades, textures and the mess I’d make with those.
Interestingly, I wasn’t particularly artistic then, and I wouldn’t call myself artistic now. But my connection with colours has been emotional. They have the power to lift my mood, calm me, or sometimes even stir a quiet sadness. Today, colours can make me feel joyful, elated, thrilled—or a little low. But back then, they meant only one thing: pure excitement!
Perhaps that’s also why lipsticks fascinated me so much.
My mother never used lipsticks, so they were none at home. But many of her friends did. Whenever I got the chance, I would quietly sneak and mess around with that colourful stick. I must have ruined a few in the process, though I don’t recall anyone ever complaining to my mother.
Even now, that fascination hasn’t entirely faded. On some days, I turn to pour painting—not with any grand artistic ambition, but simply to watch the colours merge and move and drip. Sharing some here 🙂
There’s something deeply satisfying about the interplay, something that still feels as magical as it did in childhood.
Maybe I never outgrew my love for colours. Shall I tell you women often compliment my dresses ‘I like your choice of colours!’ May be they are right! And I feel flattered. 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
Roots n Wings 