Premlata

By Preeti Trehan

Sitting silently in a concealed spot, is Premlata

Like most things in my home, my Godrej almirah too has a name

A treasure trove with a steely resolve, she is my dear friend

She whispered as I approached her, after a gap that’s been way too long

Where have you been? she scolded, the madness inside has driven me up the wall

Premlata, the world has changed, we have been through tough times

Celebrations are back after a long hiatus, caution and safety are prime

She looks concerned, she is the understanding sorts but shakes her head

What she holds within is an opinionated, cossetted lot.

Almost 2 years of absence, let me fill you in…..she proclaims

Are we here just to lie folded in muslin? Is this our fate? Pochampally started the debate

Jamdanis, Kaanthas are stumped pujo is over, Baluchari reminded them of the date

Patolas and Paithanis are ready for a protest march, Phulkari announced it will be futile

The Kanjivarams are the strong ones, but their arrogance has gone too far

They created a waiting list and put their names first, linens and handlooms they placed last

Banarasi are accused of nepotism, we don’t have to be 2nd 3rd generation to be draped

The Parsi Gara is least bothered -I always shine, being a minority doesn’t come in my way

How dare new ones be allowed, Raw Mango or angoor khatte - demanded the erudite Kasavu

Join the dots or draw a line - Bandhani and Leheriya are confused

Chanderi softly wept. Chikankari is vulnerable, always in the ‘pehle aap pehle aap’ mould

It’s the suchi taar that tried to save the day, every word could be weighed in pure gold

Why do you doubt her love? she takes really good care of us, we know not of her limitations

Did she not spend two days with us? caressing each fold, showing us off to her daughter

A tear or stain breaks her heart, drop the attitude and develop some gratitude instead

Have faith, each one’s time will come, stop pulling each other down, misbehave – overreact

When she comes to us, don’t overwhelm her with your demands, let her have her way

We are not mere sarees, her emotions and memories are woven into our warps and wefts

My dear old friend Premlata is full of affection but she warns me

Brace yourself - there is a storm brewing inside – you will feel torn

They have missed you and are longing for a glimpse of the world they adore - adorn

I don’t know what I am unlocking. I gingerly turn the handle, the doors creak

A sweet fragrance fills the air and then come the muted screams - Me! Me! Me!

By Preeti Trehan