This is the abode of Vaishno Devi, the goddess in a red saree, on her majestic feline mount.
A flash of blue blinds you for a moment. It is the pool of ice-melt in Nainital, enclosed by the green Shivalik Hills. The distant Himalayan ranges look blue from here, almost as blue as the sky, as blue as the uniform of the Air Force pilot scouting from the skies. The nation’s fringes can be seen, bordered by a lacy white line of foam, so white that it can match the uniform of the Navy, guarding the borders on the seas. And the green of the land is the colour of the Army.
Blue, green and white are the colours of bravery. There was a time when the colour of valour was the red of blood. Many have been martyred throughout history, many have laid down their lives so that others may live. The red earth you approach as you descend, reminds you of their blood. “Wear the earth as a mark of honour, on your forehead, for it is made of sacrifices,” go the lyrics of the popular patriotic song ‘Aao Bachcho Tumhein Dikhayen’.
(Is mitti se tilak karo, ye dharti hai balidaan ki.)

Buddhist prayer flags

This red of the earth is the colour of the sindoor the martyrs’ wives wiped off when their loved ones lay cold and dead, prostrate at the feet of Mother India. She is the goddess we have always worshiped, and this sentiment is beautifully captured in Bankim Chandra Chattopadhayay’s famous poem Vande Mataram.

Sujalaam, suphalaam,
Malayaja sheetalaam,
sasya shyamalaam, mataram,
Vande Mataram.

(Bounteous with rivers of plenty, fanned by the mountain breeze, covered by dark green fields full of bountiful crops. I bow to you, Mother.)
You spy a flock of pale green parrots flying together down to the farm side. Red chillies are laid out to dry in the sun. The parrots (who themselves resemble flying green

Bhavan's Journal,May 15, 2022∎ 57