I
am just a Saree,
Yet I'm certain,
If Van Gogh ever saw me, he'd paint
The Starry Night
A little earlier,
But that is alright,
Because Raja Ravi Varma did.
You see,
When he beheld,
Liquid gold
Dripping down
From the tender hold
Of the Woman Holding the Fruit,
Tucking me on her shoulder,
ever so slightly
As if gently tucking her hair,
He too saw beauty bare.
Oh, I was there!
When Damayanti dissolved,
In the gentle tear,
Of her yearning life, wistful despair,
For the swan prophesied,
Nala dared to love and loved to dare.
I am just a Saree,
But the secret lies rare
That I was woven soft from moonlight threads
to touch you
how milk touches a baby's chin
I am for the skin,
What red créme is for lips,
Thumka is for hips,
Aamras is for sips.
I carry the fragrance of mogra and sweat,
Wilfully absorbing all your sins.
I am the map of your moles,
Body and soul,
Soul and body,
Body and soul,
Soul and body,
Body and soul.
Oh, I know I am just a Saree,
But let me tell you,
The best way to wear me,
Is to remove me–
When you will,
If you will,
As you will.
And though they tell you differently,
Sakhi! Don't let the old men fool you.
Let me be silk, let me be see through.
Sakhi! Don't let the old men fool you.
I'm not here to hide your waist, but to frame it,
Admire it.
Sakhi! Don't let the old men fool you.
Your world isn't confined to a paithini's six yards.
Sakhi! Don't let the old men fool you.
Turn your modesty into a house of cards.
Sakha! Don't let the old men fool you.
You,
Can wear me too.
Oh, I am well aware I am just a Saree,
Yet within my Kodava pleats, I bear the anger of Kaveri
I hold your desire, your fire, your innocence, your rage,
I am here to safeguard your curves; who turned me into your cage?
Oh, I was there,
As they clad your sweetheart silken flesh garb more and more.
They may tear and fold history,
But in my embroidery, I etch the score.
I was there,
In every crime you concealed cruel behind shut doors.
I was there,
Honoring every Dalit heroine's knees; their frayed silk forbidden to touch the floor.
I was there,
Absorbing the blood from her breasts as Nangeli fought.
I was there,
When even justice abandoned Draupadi, but I ..
I did not
But oh,
Oh, you denizens of the world, you heed not
real voices of real people with real history and hearts
I,
Well, I am just a Saree.