A pale lilac cardigan

My mom loved to dress me 

in all shades of colour yellow.

She said it reminded her 

of the happiness as one sees 

the fields of mustard

swaying gently under

the amicable winter sun. 

But I think it was 

an attempt

to make my dark earthy skin 

look brighter and lighter. 

I also remember her

fighting tooth and nail 

trying to foil my attempts 

at buying a pale lilac cardigan 

which she thought, 

brought out the dusk of my skin,

blurting out her objections 

rather bluntly,

exasperated at my adamancy, 

and made faces 

every winter as I chose 

to wear it oftener than 

her favourite turmeric one.

Now it lies in her sandook 

as a priced possession, 

a relic from the past, 

as a memory of our banter.