A dip 'in' colors

She stepped on the puddle, a bit more so intentionally. The colored water splashed, leaving a few stains at the end of her once white frock, almost like a well-thought design against all the colors, she grinned at it and broke into a wild run around the field. The pungent smell of spring hit her, the morning sun was too mellow to dry away the mist at the tips of grass. Her almost green hair beat mercilessly against her back, her breath now a tumbling effort. A familiar rush sweeping through her.

The doorbell rang incessantly. It infuriated her. Why can't people wait for a few minutes after they have announced their presence outside the door. They know that one can't really apparate to the main door. The brief gap that follows the first ring and the time till the latch is opened, is almost inevitably filled by impatient pressing of the bell, giving off urgency even if one has all the time in the world and has nothing else to do than to just ask for a cup of cream.

The house threatened to explode with the ringing, she stomped her way to the front door. She opened the door, prepared to say off her neighbor in full throttle, instead she creased her brow at the sight in front of her. There stood her neighbor's boy, the end of his pants dripping green water on her porch, his hair yellow. She could not have recognized him if not for the shirt that he was wearing, she had been dropping snide remarks every now and then to her neighbor to throw it away, all in good humor but her idea was to implant it in his mother's head that her boy is too tall for his shirt now, no matter how adorable he looked in it.

He had a sprayer in his right hand and had his left hand behind him. He looked scared. She was worried now. She asked him what the matter was, he did not say anything but looked down. He pulled out his left hand reluctantly, it was smeared with blood. She gasped. He pulled it right back. She kneeled before him, with her hand on his shoulders urging him to show his hand once again. It was a deep cut, she observed.

Apparently he was chased across the park by his friends who were threatening to lift him and throw him into the big plastic tub filled with water looking similar to the high drain that was set in the park for the occasion. He was sporting for anything but anything to do with water. He despised getting wet somehow. Evidently he could not outrun them, was thrown into the tub, the broken corner of which made a deep cut against his wrist. She felt her heart go out to the young boy.

She lifted him up and carried him inside the house. Placing him on the dining table, she ran for first aid. It has always been like this, a look at him and she knew he was in trouble. It was like this since he was this little toddler. The first time he had stumbled while attempting to walk, he had landed on his face, had looked up at her and had burst into tears while lifting his arms, pleading to be picked up. She had been amused then, she was amused still.

She closed her door, heaving a sigh. He was out to play again. Quite happy after the cup of hot chocolate that he licked off a while back. The cut was after all harmless. She had dressed it efficiently while teaching him more pranks that he should play on others this Holi. She smiled as she saw his eyes grow in wonder and realization settle down them and then the tinge of naughtiness that lit them up.

She looked outside, settling on a chair, cupping a mug of coffee. The splash of colors, the bright day, the raw mirth-all failed to touch her. The girl in the white frock was resentful, she has cocooned herself deep inside her. Nothing reached her there anymore.