Parenting is a unique phase of one’s journey. It’s a continuous melding of love, joy, pain, and heartache. Words often fail to describe the extent of this dichotomy. There is no handbook or advice that will help you navigate the depth and breadth of the responsibility to nurture another soul.


Our 8-year-old is fascinated about being married and having kids. He wants in on it as soon as possible. When questioned his response has been “Because I want them to have a good experience on earth”. Apparently, he’s having a good experience and is keen to share it with other visiting souls.


Perhaps, if I had that level of wisdom and intuition before I naively delved into motherhood, I would have had better balance. But experience is the only teacher, and while I would make the choice, again and again, I also have deep respect for those who make a conscious choice to take another path.


Today’s piece is an ode to my favourite lastborn.


Today’s piece is an ode to my favourite lastborn. My ‘oops, I’m pregnant again!’. My absolute surprise gift. And in true form with surprises, there’s no expectation which makes acceptance easier.


KG, who will turn 7 in June, is best described as my rainbow child. If you ask him what’s his favourite colour, you’re likely to get pink or purple or both with an added “I love rainbow all colours”. The day he says that blue is his favourite will be a red flag.


So, his love of all that is bright and colourful has made me acutely aware of colour. I’ve realised that I unconsciously gravitated to muted, natural colours. They’re ‘safer’, go with everything. Especially in the olden days of a work wardrobe. It was best to have the ‘staples’ in various shades of black, you know, so that it was not obvious that you were wearing the same suit to every new business pitch. Or was it something else?


It’s no coincidence that nature is awash with colour.


My Bright Spirit, whose love of colour is equally matched by his playful, energetic soul – we often get “just joking!” with an infectious laugh after he’s said something untoward – forced me to recognise that colour is the essence of life. Life is not black and white. It’s not even grey. There’s a whole spectrum with shades and variations that are often enough to bring a smile to the heart. It’s no coincidence that nature is awash with colour.


I’ve identified as Black for much of my adult life. While I would never dismiss my heritage and roots, this was more of a personal alignment with my ancestors who resonate more strongly with me. I’ve been on the fence about the use of ‘people of colour’ as a descriptor for those of ethnic and mixed heritage. I guess it was too close to ‘coloured’.


But my KG, in so many ways, has changed my perception about life. His inherent rejection of societal prescripts of ‘blue is for boys, pink is for girls’ has made me increasingly intentional about colour, especially what I wear. Yes, I’ve known about colour psychology. I worked at a branding agency many moons back. But I didn’t have the cognitive intuition to adapt it to my personal sphere.


Now more than ever, diversity is crucial to the healing of our fragmented, traumatised world. There’s no choice in the matter. So, it’s a yes to more colour from me. Yeah, I’m a person of colour. And I love it!