The Windowsill

Nine AM,
A fresh beginning;
Colours galore on the palette:
Lying by the tainted glass window –
So tranquil and calm
Despite the storm of the mind
Always raging on and on
Without any prior reason
Or sometimes with a cause.

The young child paints a scenery
One featuring a sunset scenery
Riddled with questions of allure and unknown grief
The scarlet red bleeds into
The bright yellow of the sun
Like a collage of colours being brought to life
As if the creator is creating a painting himself
Of the infinite universe
Spread out across the horizon
Turning the firmament a bright red

An admixture of the warmth of summer
Spreads through my veins
Polluting my blood
Sitting by the windowsill
I see a reflection of my younger self
Caught up in the mere reflection of a mirror .

~Riddhima Sen~

Writer’s Introduction : Riddhima Sen is currently pursuing a Masters degree in comparative literature at Jadavpur University . She has self published twenty three solo books and has participated in thirty three anthologies so far . 

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