Exploring the colour palette of love, one relationship at a time

Before this month of love goes by, I’m sharing five vignettes on love. Hope you find some version yourself in at least one of them.


She runs out of class, tiny backpack bouncing at her hip, ponytails askew, ribbons undone hanging down her shoulders.

‘Mammaaa,’ she calls out, ‘Look what I made for you.’ 
She hands over a piece of paper, a pink heart at its centre with a crooked arrow running through.
‘Happy Valemtime Day,’ she lisps tripping over her words, hugging her mum’s knees, ‘I love you’.

Pink is the colour of love.


She slams shut her laptop the sound echoing through the quiet house.
‘This is impossible!’ she exclaims. 
‘What’s wrong?’ asks her mum looking up.
Her eyes flash with irritation as she whirls around to face her mother.
Everything is wrong!’ she exclaims, her voice rising, ‘I can’t do this stupid project, I can’t get through this idiotic course!’
‘Maybe you just need a break.’
‘I don’t have time for a break.’
‘Can I help? What’s the project about?’
‘No, you can’t. Just stop. Stop trying to make everything right for me.  You’re not some kind of supermom!’
With that she pushes back from the dining table, sending the chair crashing to the floor. Tears of frustration well up in her eyes as she storms out, slamming the door to her room shut behind her, leaving her mother in the hallway, feeling helpless and unsure.

An hour later she emerges, exhausted, repentant. The yellow post-it on the refrigerator catches her eye. ‘There’s cold coffee in the fridge. Always yours. SuperMom’, it says.

The colour of love is yellow.


A brown blur sprints across the room and hurls itself at her as she opens the door. Yipping, licking, circling, weaving in and out of her legs, tail wagging furiously, he stands up on two legs to match her height till she kneels down and scoops him up in her arms. He wriggles out of her grasp, then jumps back at her unable to contain his joy at having his human back home.

Brown is the colour of love.

Photo by Julissa Helmuth on Pexels


‘Happy Valentine’s Day’, he says handing her a bunch of rajanigandhas.
‘O ho, after 40 years of marriage you have turned into an Angrez,’ she mock grumbles, turning away with an eyeroll. The slight dimple on her cheek betrays the smile behind her words as she heads to the kitchen in search of a flower vase.

Waise, the colour of love is red and one is supposed to give roses on Valentine’s Day.’

‘Hmm… I no longer dream of love. It’s peace I seek. You’re always quibbling, complaining, nagging, always fighting. The white flowers are a reminder for you to keep the peace.’ he replies with a cheeky grin.

Her brow clouds with an angry frown. She hates it when he does that – pinning the stereotype of a nagging wife on her.

I am always fighting? I am always nagging? You forget to take your medicine, you walk in on freshly mopped floors, you leave the wet towel on the bed, you leave your shoes near the shoe rack instead of in it. You.’ 
She pauses for a breath.
‘What am I supposed to do? How many times am I supposed to pick up after you? I am also growing old.’

‘Old? Who’s old here? I can only remember the impish newlywed who dared me to get her a stalk of rajanigandha from Sharma ji’s garden.’

The dimples are back, dispelling all traces of the frown.

‘Ha ha ha.. I remember. You went in like a filmi hero but ran back like a puppy with his tail between his legs.’

Their joint laughter fills the house mingling with the intoxicating fragrance of their favourite flowers

White is the colour of love.

Photo by Mohammad Hossein jamaly on Unspalsh


She wished she could disappear. Never in her life had she felt such profound humiliation. Never in her adult life had she been so publicly insulted. And all for what? A single foolish spelling mistake.

‘….multiplied a lakh times over – One lakh twenty-seven thousand – that’s the circulation of our city edition,’ the editor had bellowed, ‘It was the headline for godsake. How could you make a spelling error in a headline.’ 

Each word felt like a physical blow, knocking her off balance.

‘Bloody fr****ng interns. The whole useless lot should be sacked. God knows why we must we be saddled with them.’ The editor’s tirade had seemed to go on for ever.

‘I’ll have to resign,’ she thought desperation creeping in. ‘Yes that’s it. I need to leave.’ Even as the thought solidified in her head she noticed movement and saw a cup of coffee by her side. She looked up into a pair of warm caramel eyes. ‘Don’t mind the old man. He’ll calm down soon. We’ve all been there. Relax.’ He reassured before disappearing behind his computer screen.

The colour of love is caramel.

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels


What’s your colour of love? Share?

I’m writing at the BAR for the prompt ‘If love was a colour what would it be?’

10 Replies to “Exploring the colour palette of love, one relationship at a time”

    1. Thanks so much Inderpreet. When I read your post that’s exactly what I thought – that there was so much similarity on our posts. Glad to see you active on your blog.

  1. Awww…your post made me senti!!
    The first story, brought a big smile to my face, the next one reminded me of myself from so many years ago, then the next reminded me of my fur bachcha who never made me feel incomplete, and the next again brought a smile to my face and had me nodding my head in agreement (har ghar mein yehi hota hai itne saalon baad, hai na? :P) and the last story reminded me of my time at the receiving end of a client who murdered my article.
    Loved every one of these stories, Tulika!! Have I asked you when you are planning to write a book? If I haven’t, then I do it now. Tulika, when do you plan on writing a book? Or at least flash fiction, more often? Pray tell! 🙂
    Shilpa Gupte recently put up this amazing post…What scares you?My Profile

    1. As always, you’re too generous Shilpa. The stories have more observation than imagination. I’m so happy you could find yourself in them.

  2. These little stories about love are really touching! Each one showed a different side of love, from a child’s innocent affection to the understanding between partners. It made me think about the many ways love colors our lives. If I’ve to choose a color then I’d choose rainbow. Loved reading this!
    Neha Sharma recently put up this amazing post…Finding My Soulmate: A Journey to Forever | Part 3My Profile

    1. Neha, welcome to blog. Glad you liked the stories. The amazing thing about love is that it’s all around us in so many forms, right?

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