Our Kamla Bai Poem by Sanyukta Dharmadhikari

Our Kamla Bai,
With a pierced nose and a bun
Both held up high
A rose clipped in her hair
Behind her ear,
Shouts, “I have come! ”
In a thin, high-pitched voice
That can make birds shudder
And glasses break.

Our Kamla Bai,
With her bangles tinkling
As she rolls the dough into chapattis
Swats away a random fly,
Curses the heat.

Our Kamla Bai,
Her ears all open
For household gossip and workplace arguments.
Grins as if she knows all the solutions,
But makes her face serious
In front of the younger maids.

Our Kamla Bai,
With dreams of Nokia and a cement roof,
Thinking about a Colors enabled television
And big gold anklets
Dreams on as she chops instead of dicing.

Our Kamla Bai,
Working seven houses, decidedly skipping the eighth,
Removes her pallu from her waist.
Forgetting to clean up,
Leaves with a mighty air.