a fabric with a colorful swirled pattern of curved shapes
She pulls out a cotton bundle
and unwraps
the most beautiful sari I’ve ever seen,
a dark, rich red with scattered gold paisleys,
a shiny gold border
wide as my palm.
We are reading The Sword in the Stone,
and we are required to discuss courtly love from medieval times,
to learn about the society that King Arthur would be ruling.
I want to tell her
when I reach for words
in Kannada or Tamil,
all my brain can come up with
is the French I learn in school,
and what I understand of
the languages my parents speak
is confined
to the mundane conversations of home.
Amma tries to haggle everywhere we go,
which may work at the Indian grocery store
(where we buy dal, rice, spices)
but not at Kmart,
where I try to hide behind the cart as she negotiates
with a very confused cashier.