White

Things would be fine, she always thought. 'Once dad comes back...'

She got ready for the day. Another day to survive, struggle. But its a part of life isn't it? She prepared breakfast for everyone, and helped her mom with the lunch preparations. Her mom had to leave at 11 to board the 11.30 bus.

"Tell him, I love him", she said, and left for work.

Days have been the same. Routine. There was a restless silence in the house at all times, which ironically led to a lot of noise - laughs, giggles, screeches, tears, abuses.

She went about her way through day, not unaware what was chasing her. It chased her, and frequently caught up with her. But, she would cough it out, refusing to be absorbed by it. She was determined to smile, and brave her way through rough seas of time.

There was a dream. A day, with her mom and dad, brother and sister. The sky was blue, yet it seemed as though it was painted afresh. The flowers showcased all the colours of the rainbow. How had she missed out the colours of life, all this while? The clouds floated with no borders, there were people - good, humble people - all around. She was determined to live long enough to see it come true. She knew these days would turn colourful.

Afer all, white is made of many colours.