“The world is a drama, staged in a dream,”
my grandmother said, with a voice
which reminded me of the winter days
filled with warm jalabees and laughter--
a gentle quiver with a burst of charm
yet more powerful than her feeble form--
a golden ray of sunshine melted into sound
masking a fierce spirit that bloomed in her heart.
In my hands, her hairpin--an heirloom,
intricate designs embellished in gold
hugging a luminous curve, its dark side hidden
in its company, celestial embers of the sky
that hung in darkness
like misted stars clasping her wild hair
which poured over her shoulders; a stream
of woven gold flowing like time.
If life were a play, then heirlooms
are props passed
down as God calls ‘exeunt!’
The spotlight dims, and the last words resonate:
“The world is a drama staged in a dream.”
Saira Chowdhry is a 16 year old student living in New Delhi, India. She loves to write and explore literary boundaries through her work. She enjoys traveling and immersing herself in different cultures.