Green

The other day I was in my green Levi’s t-shirt (of course, not the original Levi’s, but it looks very original considering that I picked it up from a streetside shop), when a colleague asked me, incredulously: “You are wearing green!” I tell him, yes. I lover green. It’s the colour of the season. Green is the new black.” The colleague stares at me and repeats: “You are wearing green!”

Then it hits me. Of course, green is a Muslim colour. But, I am Hindu. My colleague is Muslim. Why should I wear green? By wearing the colour, am I showing my affinity to Islam? Not really. I am wearing green because I love the colour. There’s no politics involved.

My colleague grins. Then he tells me about another colleague. Another Muslim. This one is a little orthodox. Recently, his son did well in the exams, and his was distributing pedas, and yes, you are right. The pedas were green.

The question is where do we draw the line?

PS. But, green isn’t a Muslim colour, not in India at least. It’s the colour of the national flag. In Maharashtra, it’s the colour of the married woman. During a wedding, there’s an occasion when the bride must wear a green sari. She must also wear green bangles. The traditional saris the Maharashtrian women wear come in green. And, a widow isn’t allow to wear that particular shade of green. (You wonder when green became a tradition in Maharashtra; is it the influence of the Mughal Empire?)

Green is colour of peace. It’s the colour of fertility. It’s the colour of nature, of rejuvenation, of life.