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Showing posts from September, 2005


Nine-yard saree fading in the sunlight borne with grace. Brow bent with age, with wrinkles of poverty. Eyes squint, item is held close to face to determine what it is. "Thirty rupees. Very good material, Sir. Will hold water. For ages." I paid the amount instantly. As I walk away, I steal a quick glance. Old woman, frail but proud. Proud of a day's hard labour. Of her keep honestly earned. A bit of kumkum, some flowers, the last of her green bangles. I look at me. Levis, Adidas, Clavin Klein. I would give my fortune for the dignity she exudes. Published in South Asian Poetry Review 26 (3); 2005