The Shawl

(picture from internet)

The Shawl

Draped lovingly around my back
it became animated. Tendrils
of warmth crept up like mom’s soothing
embrace, morning’s first sunlight that blots
out chills from cool night.  I further snuggled into
its open armed embrace.  A familiar delicate perfume wafted
tickling my nose, escaping from its colorful threads
entering my pores, taking me by the hand to those distant
shores of summers past, wintry nights and monsoon madness,
that deliberate soaking of clothes as we madly danced and
splashed in puddles created by incessant rains that were
akin to uninvited guests that never left.

We continued to jump and splash wearing galoshes
ignoring admonishments, cajoles of elders to
come in before being waylaid by sniffles. Secretly
wanting that fuss and concern, to hear those clucking
sounds of exasperation and hustle bustle; feet
soaked in hot water, sweet ginger tea and dunking
of umpteen glucose biscuits to unceremoniously send packing
any daring cold cough thief that may have snuck in catching us unawares.  A spoonful of yucky brandy was also administered as added insurance against nasty colds at bedtime.

The skeins of colored threads were skillfully embroidered
into a lovely garden.  A mass of blooms in shades of pinks, magenta, browns, greens spread out like a fish net covering the whole surface of the shawl bringing it to life. An evergreen eternal haul of fresh multi colored flowers to bloom forever, never wilt or die.  Like an artist’s painting on a blank canvas brought to life by individual skill and imagination. This will live on as a mute testimony of the beloved ones that have passed on.  A storehouse and receptacle of love, care, blessings, shared joys, sorrows and many prayers for carefree morrows. A cocoon of love as secure as a womb and as warm and inviting as a comforter.
My shawl is a cozy hideaway bunker from life’s mauls.
It is that steadfast friend when loneliness strikes
and heart aches for sight of those beloved faces.  It is a shady glade emblazoned with delicate flowers to impart peace, calm
and bring some cheer to life’s occasional dreariness.

(Note: I brought back my mother’s handmade shawl with me which is 50-60 years old and very dear to me)






Nov 2009 mom's shawl


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