Pink popsicles are artists too.

( A mini true story, written during the lockdown )

Photograph by Mohini

It was a balmy, sweaty, summer afternoon. I was locked down. My insides felt as shut off as I was to the outside world. My tastebuds felt numb to the hot lunch that I served myself and I couldn’t get beyond eating a mouthful of what felt like chalk to me. And then I remembered - the popsicle. It waited for me in the freezer. New lunch plans. 

The bright pink popsicle brought a smile to my heart, if not to my face, as I slurped and dropped some of its pink paint onto my perfectly white shirt. This did not bother me. I sat there, my mouth numb with sugar, happy to be dripping pink everywhere. And then I noticed my plate. 

How wonderful is pink! 

How beautiful are patterns! 

How simple is art! 

And finally, there it was - a bright pink smile on my face.

mohini