She sews into them

her history,

forming her image

from her dreams, from her mother.

through her glasses

she manifests in each piece,

mirrored in cloth.

She summons traders from the coast—

tethering cowrie shells in hanging chains,

Lakshmi in rupaiya haar, glass bangles

around her arms,

a black-bead mangalsutra

and silver draping her neck,

her wealth on display.

When history tried to erase her,

she stitched herself back,

into existence.

Hazel-grey eyes carry her world—

times that can only be passed through—

worn as pride for survival,

singing songlines of histories—

with the conquerors.

The odhni pulled back

revealing lived stripes, taut

across her long forehead

radiating from the big red bindi.

dust-thick hair

tugged by gravity

and silver bells.

She announces her walk in chimes,

coins and shells hang,

lagging her rhythm—

her strut.

Sunken cheeks

pulled into lips

like butterfly wings—

endurance fully coalesced,

as she walks the goat and sheep market

alone, a queen.