My skin is dark, my hair is black, my teeth are white and my nails are too.
My blood is red and my eyes are dark brown.
My body is a colour palette, my appearance is full of colours
My heart beats same as anyone else’s but I am sure our taste buds do differ
I grew into a family of humans where everyone had shades similar to mine
A little darker and a little lighter but the colour palette was humanly, pre-defined
I always thought as a child and even now, that colours make me, make my soul
My job then, as I thought, was and is, to add as many colours as I can and could
.. to my personality and to my being
.. to make me the best coloured me
Then one fine day when someone pointed out that I was black and shouldn’t be that way
I looked at myself and thought why just black?! I have a host of colours in me anyway
At the face of discrimination when the wind blew hard, I found it equally disturbing to hold onto my part
I didn’t understand what was I being discriminated against?!
My skin colour or my hair colour or my coloured appearance on the whole ..
I was tempted to ask and I still am .. What colour are you all made of being similar humans?!
Aren’t we all coloured by our basic birth and human entity?! So why would you look at me any differently?!