As she placed her gold rings into the cupboard, Dina pretended to forget her reoccurring dream She had been eyeing a beautiful tissue silk sari, One that she had seen in the local magazine Tarun despised Dina wearing tissue silk For him, it brought back the dreadful memory Of the sari his beloved mother passed away in It was a material Dina didn’t own a single piece of – in her entire closet Dina continued to cage the sari of her dreams And continued to set the table for the upcoming guests While she didn’t know his mother, With the slightest whisper, she knew it brought out his most vulnerable side Malati arriving fashionably late, came bearing a gift It was, but of course – a beautifully wrapped tissue silk sari With packaging that even Tiffany wouldn’t wrap itself into Dina ogled as her heart exploded into multiple soft silk threads  As she tried it on in the confines of the room, She swooned and twirled, Looking deep into the mirror if this moment were really true   The most expensive perfume was whisked around the sprawling room   Flowers bloomed and butterflies appeared as she pleated and pleaded Oh dear, never leave me Tarun barged into the room, utterly surprised and then disheartened.   Dina packed the sari back neatly into the packaging… Tarun was found outside – weeping, slouched against wall, tie undone She threw the sari aside and sat beside him as they cried, Arms intertwined and remembering bittersweet memories of Ma As she hugged Tarun, Dina’s mind drifted right back to the sari… The creases, the soft silk and its just its luminous presence on her body.