Saree, My Forever Love

Saree, my forever love,
The six-yard, the nine-yard.
The one with pockets, the one with drapes.
The pre-stitched, the free-flowing,
In countless hues and shades,
Gauzy or transparent, crisp or flowing,
Made of fine silk or soft cotton,
Of georgette and chiffon, tussar and organza.

Of batik and bagh,
Of kalamkari and ajrakh,
Of ikat and patola,
Of Banarasis woven in gold and dreams,
Of jamdanis light as air.
From the ghats of Maheshwar to the looms of Chanderi,
From Kanjeevaram’s grandeur to Bengal’s taant,
From Sambalpuri to Mangalgiri, from Kota doriya to Paithani,
From kantha's hand-stitched stories to patchwork’s quiet charm.

Her wardrobe housed a mini India,
A living archive of threads and time.

The swish of a pallu,
The bindi on her forehead,
The kohl in her eyes,
The juttis on her feet.
Quintessentially her!