The sari draped
over the shoulder
hangs like a pendulum
oscillate in the breeze.
Freely suspended
loose ends look elegance
I do not restrict the flow
with a brooch or a matching pin.
It is hard to comprise
and enlist their manifold
usages, handy and soft
being ever at disposal.
I splash water on my face
do not seek a towel
wipe the face and hands
and soften the lips with the ends.
In the kitchen, swiftly I
deploy them to lift
the pots from the stove
never seek grippers or gloves
Certain to win the slot,
they are the best pacifiers,
my sons roll and shove them
into the mouth and turn happy.
I walk out of the house.
in haste. Encounter unexpected
shower at times and harsh sunlight
most, pass the ends over my head.
Engage in discussions
I fold and unfold, knot
or unknot, according to
the plight I encounter.
Passionate of the loose ends,
I run my fingers through them.
straighten the fold and swing
them on the shoulder.
A pleasant mixture that of
the aroma of food, the smell
of saliva of the kids, of my own
emanates and fills.
Meenas Poems 