‘What are you weaving?’ I asked,
She replied, ‘I am weaving my dreams.’
‘How do you weave dreams in a loom?
Sitting in a village, in a small little room?’
‘It is a magic rug that I am weaving you see,
I am weaving freedom to liberate me.’
I still was wondering, so I asked again.
‘How do you weave freedom with a rug?’
Just then her daughter came and gave her a hug.
‘This rug that I weave ensures that my daughter will go to school,
That she will stand up for herself and break the patriarchy’s rule
That she will follow her heart’s desire
That she will get wings to fly higher.’
She smiled as she wove, her smile singing a thousand songs,
The hapless dame had transformed into a woman- powerful and strong.
With her sang a thousand more,
As they tended to their families and finished their chores.
The rugs they wove,
Have woven their lives,
A tapestry of power, independence, honor and love
In which they now thrive.
-Shailaza Singh
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