What’s red?

Is it the eyes or is it the lips?

Is it aggression or is it love?

Is it possession or is it passion?

Is it a dire call of enclosure or is it the incipiency of nightmare?



Red is a sea, it’s an ocean of endlessness.


Deep, divine, lecherous, emulous, forbidden, wretched, glorious, spicy….

It’s a way how souls meet in the presence of a hollow space.

Red is pure.

Red is blood.

It’s a fluid to be moulded but can rust a golden heart.

Red is every heart filled with lust, sorrow, regret, confusion, envy, gluttony, sloth.

Red is the secret of your life.

Red is the cherished memories of your sins and the forgotten deads of morality.

Red is the eternal trust of an broken friendship.

Red is the repaired swing of an unforgotten love.

Red is a submissive emotion of an ablazed spirit.

Red is the lusture of your skin,

Red is beaut,

Red is the blossomed tree amidst the desert, the lotus in backwaters, beautiful child on the streets, wet sky post an imperfect sunset.

Red is blue, red is violet, red is green, red is orange, red is yellow, red is indigo,

Red is everything that makes white.

Red is a stain in your virtue of wisdom.

Red is a string of birth, life and death.

Red is the photographed child inside you.

Red is abstract…

It’s everything I want in the hour,

Red is an extraordinary silence which echoes eternally through the valleys of success, failure, love, sorrow, birth, death, kisses, presence, absence, loneliness, cries and

Red is the scars beneath the smile,

Red is the glow of cherry lips,

Red is a nude shade of peace,

Red is the core of a calm mind

And the skull of a broken heart.

– Adwait Bhingarde