people as clothes

my best friend would be a yellow knee length dress

made out of georgette, shifting shape to complement people,

embroidered to put her best self out there,

with room on the sides for loosening up,

lest anyone call her a prude.

my other best friend would be a voluminous kalamkari skirt

that is carefully stitched, and comforting like her words,

a block each for all the ways in which she loves,

and loves, and loves.

my grandmother would be a cotton calcutta saadi

in silver-white, the colour of her hair,

starched stiff like her ways,

but growing softer from wear, like herself.

D & S would be loose black pants and a navy blue shirt,

respectively, in linen - expensive-looking but

thrifted from a vintage store; a total steal

because it's been too many years but

the fabric just grows denser and denser. 

my mother is an ensemble of a handloom dupatta

and an off-white, round necked khaadi kurta with 3/4 sleeves,

that she embroidered herself,

that will be mine me soon.