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The Poetry of Her Day -- poetry by Praniti Gulyani

on mother’s dupatta there is

the faltering poetry of her days, inscribed

in turmeric shades of deep yellow

in orange shades of sinking skies


on mother’s dupatta there is

the stumbling poetry of her day, folded

into the creases of her cloth

poetry that is fragrant with

the strong scent of garden herbs


on mother’s dupatta there is

the flowing poetry of her day, pouring

from the tears in her cloth

like starlight that drops into

the open-mouths of oil lamps

on Diwali nights


on mother’s dupatta there is

the heavy-hearted poetry of her day, clinging

like the night sky pressing

against the windows

where a star squeaks against the glass

of a lonely, February night


on mother’s dupatta there is

the multilayered poetry of her day. crumpled

into the cotton of her cloth

is a lotus of bruised moments

the light pink merging with

the crimson of her wedding days

entangled within the embroidery of which lies

the scarred cheeks of the gibbous moon


on mother’s dupatta there is

the pulsating poetry of childhood days, stained

with the scarlet hues

of the betel seller’s words

as it flickers, like a candle flame

and a struggling rainbow, an icon of something

that dares to call itself

a dream


Praniti Gulyani is a sixteen year old author. Her book Sixteen Drops of Ink was published by The Impish Lass Publishing House in August 2020. She lives by the lines that really inspire her: "I will continue to write till my heart is devoid of all emotion and ideas, and still continue to write even after that, because writing is not a part of what I do, a part of who I am."

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