This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 42; the forty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is “COLOR”
Bombay was one place my mind always fluttered to. Over the last few years when little had been done to bring peace to my soul, I often thought about the times spent there. My mother was a troubled human being, more on my account though. Last I saw her was when I was sixteen, I never returned home after that. What had she said which angered me so much? After sixty years I don’t even remember. But I do remember her face when I walked out of the house. It was a look of relief.
“Man you walk like an India, forever slouching. The colonialism is in your blood it seems,” he would joke.
And then one day he walked in wearing a suit and a tie, “I am going to get a job tonight.” His words filled me with hope and determination. I felt infused with a sense of purpose. I quickly walked by and saluted him as a way of paying him homage.
He died a day later when his father was sent to jail for his murder. A white man had killed him in broad daylight and the entire company of men there had vouched for his alibi. When we said men back then it meant white.
Color. It mattered to us. It mattered to those who had it and more importantly to those who didn’t.
Angelo’s death should have thwarted my attempts to live a normal life. But it didn’t It infused me a strange sense of revenge. And it was in that revenge that I decided to become a lawyer. I started my career as a young apprentice and reached the highest rings of the court of justice. I had a purpose now, I knew what I wanted to achieve. I wanted to defeat color. I wanted to make the world a part of a spectrum where black and white were no longer different.
* * *
And now I return to Bombay. I return to my world. Last night my son finally put the man who killed Angelo behind bars. He was eighty years old and had a lot of cash to pay to us. But justice has no color or greed. His imprisonment was the end of my own journey in here. Perhaps my homeland will now welcome me as a lost soul who brought redemption to it midway in life.
I will rest in the same house where my mother shielded me from my vices. Where she bid me goodbye with hope in her heart and dreams in her eyes. I am feel colored with emotions and yet happy to be bathed in equality.
Racism of all kinds have plagued the world all over. Its seeds have been sown by perpetrators of justice and humanity. Today things have evolved immensely and yet we find a few of us becoming victims of the age old evil. Each time I hear the word color I can only think of this. Here’s hoping we become a more liberated and united world, full of colors and appreciative of each.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 05
I am again attempting to blog a live story in here. If you are interested then read it. Its first part is How strange it seemed in that moment- Part 1
And through this you can navigate to the rest. Happy reading!