"She is blue" said the one
"No, she is red" said the other
Yet another saw her in yet another color
And the fight, with each minute, grew louder
They saw her through their glasses of different colors
There was simply no way they would see her the same
The spectators, though, cheered and egged them on
For them, it was just another game!
And there she stood in the middle, the lady in white
"Truth" was the name by which she was called
She sighed and whispered (or so I thought)
"If none can see me right, do I exist at all?"
Backdrop: the polarized debates raging on in India (and the world over). Humans are inherently biased and our perceptions always distort the truth. Even if an absolute truth were to exist, our puny biased minds are incapable of seeing it. If we were to at least understand and accept this limitation of ours, the world would be a much better place.
PS: Feels good to be back with the writing after a long gap! And I've tried a painting to capture the mood of the poem as well.
