Where my love for sari originates from?

Wailing like a loud siren
looking like a blob of cotton
Maa wrapped me in a green floral cloth,
smelling of warmth, love and care.
My first experience of a saree
was as a three month old goofball,
looking confused yet learning
the affection that comes
with a cloth splattered with warmth all over.
Twenty six years later,
I still like to wrap myself around one.
As a five year old, I got into a fight
with our house help, to let me drape
maa's saree before she could fold it.
Two stitches around my forehead later,
(That came from hitting my head
to the corner of the bed),
I realised I was looking out
to be like my Maa who drapes a saree
so effortlessly and goes around the day
at such ease and poise.
Like mother, like daughter-
I wanted to be.
I grew up watching my grandma and maa
wearing the six yards of unstitched cloth
in record breaking time,
hoping someday I could do that too.
I would spend hours lying down
digging my face
into the softness of their laps,
listening to tales from their childhood and mine.
My love for sarees came to me
almost naturally, passing on
from a generation to other.
But it is slowly that I learnt
that a saree is not just a piece of cloth
but there are thousands of stories
hidden in the creases and the folds.
And as I drape one around myself
and turn to the mirror
to place the bindi on my forehead,
I can’t help but to smile
looking at myself wondering
how did I make the transition-
In a world of fast fashion-
To stick by the tradition
with a touch of modernity.
Sarees. They are pieces of nostalgia
Wrapped with the spirit of womanhood,
that makes me feel so powerful
yet gentle, fierce yet elegant.
And within these emotions
lie the connection
between saree and me,
that started long ago,
but is here to stay,
perhaps forever,
perhaps a little more. `

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