The freshly starched cotton sari
says, “you must rush, prove, marry, care, conform”.
The carelessly slipping ikkat dupatta
says, “I will climb mountains, read, dream, defy”.
The crinkly soft chungdi sari
says, “my dear, you must eat, drive carefully, watch”.
Will you wear platinum or rubies?
No, silver or terracotta.
Gold or diamonds?
Will you eat a roti or a sandwich?
No, pasta or falafel.
Rice or curry?
Will you buy a laptop or a mutual fund?
No, a vacation or shoes.
Silks or bangles?
It’s a wonder how,
while living in strikingly different worlds,
under the same roof,
three generations of women,
try desperately to live the same life,
in turmoil, in serenity.
This one is for J, who I trust implicitly.
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