“Actually… you are my orange umbrella”, he said looking at her, smiling.
“What?
Orange umbrella?!” she quirked.
“Yeah”, he
laughed. “See, first of all, you are an umbrella – my umbrella, who keeps me
away from the scorching Sun and the stormy rain. You have been with me throughout
all these.”
“That’s fine.
But since when do I look orange?”
“Have you ever
noticed how cool orange is? It is just in the right proportion of colours – neither
fierce like the red nor pale like yellow. Orange is all those beautiful
bittersweets, and yet soothing. Just like you.”
“Wow! So, I am
an orange umbrella?!”
“Yeah. My
Orange Umbrella”, he smiled.
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