By Prajakta Paranjpe
A peachy bundle swaddled in cotton
with flushed lips and furrowed brow
they handed me a new life-
What joy, oh such good 'luck now' !
One last stitch went through my skin
I lay there, in flipped dimension,
knotted up inside; ready,
for a life in 'second person.'
So I push and pull the thread of your cradle
weaving myself in and out
tugging the running stitch above,
against my shadow-work of doubt.
My stubby fingers too unskilled
such delicate Chikankari* to be wrought
It’s pearly surface must not unravel
so underneath I must be tied in knots.
All the tiny curves I walked
now show a pattern of flowers and vines
each choice I faced - a stabbing question,
as if I was writing your fate, in lines.
A rough and tumble of daily wash
but unlike silk, we're not shiny both ways,
hung inside out to dry
your colors reckon with my sordid grays.
Your life now expands with supple glow
I want to just hold, not tie it down
my invisible effort, traversing the planes
with a gentle tug, and a happy frown.
*Chikankari - a traditional style of embroidery from Lucknow, India, dating back to the Mughal Period in 15th Century. Chikankari embroidery uses ‘shadow-work,’ a technique of embroidering on the underside of the garment, so only its shadow is seen on the surface.
Prajakta Paranjpe grew up in India, loving languages and soaking them in through their colorful literature and music: Marathi, Hindi, English, Sanskrit and German. She enjoys writing and translating in English, Marathi and Hindi (when the muse strikes), to make cultural bridges. She obtained MA and M.Phil in English literature from Pune University, followed by an Ed.M. from Rutgers. She’s an educator at Middlesex College by profession, and loves to indulge in singing Hindustani classical as well as light music. She blogs under the name ‘Vishakha,’ on aavarta.blogspot.com and her publications in webzines are linked here: https://www.linkedin.com/in/prajakta-paranjpe-2374964/details/publications/