FEATURED WRITER PRIYANKA GOWDA'S 'DRAPED IN MAA'S WARMTH'



Sarees were never my first choice of clothing for either occasional or daily wear. Yes, it is a part of my culture and the most important part of my wedding trousseau. Maa has worn sarees most of her life. Sarees to pick me up from school sometimes and sarees for special occasions. I always knew where she was going by the saree she picked out (most children do). The edge of the pallu was mine to hold and play until my sibling took over. Any special occasion or festival was marked by buying a new saree. There were times she would save up to buy that special saree!

It was not just her. My grandmother, aunt, teachers, and every woman who left an indelible mark on my life wore sarees. So, sarees were on the highest pedestal of clothing, but that didn't quite make me like them and try to drape one like the women around me. It seemed tedious to wrap around a 6-yard saree with pleating in between.

Initially, I wore sarees out of compulsion; it was a festival or a puja ( as if the Gods themselves would get angry if you did not wear it). But like many other things in life, it grew on me, including the colours, the designs, the intricate weaving, the versatility, and its forgiving nature (it would fit even if you put on a few pounds). So much so that I could go on doing daily activities with ease and finesse, which surprised me.

Now, sarees are a staple part of my wardrobe. I wear a saree on every occasion I can. Every time I visited my home in Bangalore, I would try to sneak a saree from my mother's cupboard because not only are they classic, timeless beauty, but they feel like her warmth, hopes for me, and happiness.

It's been more than six months since I lost my Maa, even as I write this sentence my heart fills with a heavy pain which I didn't know could even exist. Having lost my grandparents, who were very close to me 10 years ago, 3-4 years apart, I was no stranger to the pain of losing a close family member. But losing a parent is not something anyone is prepared for – you get a call one fine morning, and your life changes forever. That unconditional love and solid support where even if you told them that you murdered somebody, she would be like, "Let's think it through. Have a cup of coffee/tea "is gone forever.  As an adult with two kids of my own, I feel like I am in free fall without my support harness at times, but I try to believe that time heals everything. This hits harder if you stay away from home.

 

A month after she passed away, I was sorting through her sarees, which I was trying to avoid as much as possible. I found the first saree I borrowed for my 10th farewell. It was this dark blue saree with a maroon border. It had snags at some places with fraying threads, but she had refused to part with it. The sarees she brought for my wedding were one of her prized possessions. I've forgotten how many people told me that  "your mother looks like your sister" that day. I wish I could say to her it's the radiance within her that the saree adds to. As a young adult, I think I took my mother's care and love for granted (maybe most of us do), but when I got married and became a mother, our relationship metamorphosed. She became my best friend.

 

The sarees she had just bought for my brother's wedding, the Mysore silk sarees she loved, the saree she bought when we moved into our new house 25 years ago. It all smelled of her. Some still had those creases along which she pleated her sarees,and some without their ends unstitched. Over the years, she would always send me a package for Diwali of sweets and savouries and clothes for my husband, kids and me. In recent years, it's always been a saree for me; she would be like," I saw the saree, and it reminded me of you". A couple of sarees she had bought a couple of weeks ago were lying in a packet with the bill still still intact. Pretty much like all the dreams she had for this phase of life where she was done with all the responsibilities and would truly live a relaxed life. If I saw some saree online, I'd send her a screenshot. Sarees had become part of our love language. She had a huge collection of the traditional kanjivaram sarees, which I distributed between my aunts and cousins as keepsakes, symbolic of the love and care she showed everyone. She was the binding factor in the family. Every shelf cleared in the cupboard felt like a punch in the stomach. As Glennon Doyle Melton said - "Grief is love's souvenir. It's our proof that we once loved. Grief is the receipt we wave in the air that says to the world: Look! Love was once mine."


It's funny how things change in life. I started wearing a saree as a sign of reverence and respect for tradition, and I was drawn to them in recent years. Now, it remains a tangible thing to hold on to as I learn to cope with grief. As I learn to live in a world where my mom doesn't exist, these sarees serve as a physical connection to her. I hope they evoke the happy memories, her warmth, the strong bond we shared, and a part of me that completes me and accepts the reality of life.

 

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About the writer 

Priyanka Gowda, a Senior Technology Consultant by profession, loves to read and a strong advocate for women leaders and entrepreneurship. A native of Bangalore who resides in Philadelphia with her husband and her two daughters. learning to rekindle the joy of writing and storytelling. 




Priyanka wrote this piece as her final assignment for a for a six-week Creative Nonfiction Writing WorkshopThis is what she had to say about the workshop.

"I have wanted to be part of Shweta’s workshop for quite some time. Her workshop nudges you in the right direction. She is very patient and supportive. Her suggestions and encouragement make you want to write better. She is really warm and genuine as her online posts are."


Inkspire wishes Priyanka all the very best on her writing journey. 

We hope to read more from her in the years to come. 

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  2. Beautiful written, Priyanka... your emotions echo through your words.. yeah, it's amusing how things evolve over time. Especially when certain things that are done out of compliance eventually become a part of you.. ❤️

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