I wonder,

as I stand in front of the mirror,

with my hair tied in a knot and a vessel in my hand,

a careful concoction of 3 tbsp of milk,

1 tbsp of Multani mitti,

and the juice from half a lemon.

I wonder,

is the brown of my skin,

any different from the brown of Parvati's body,

that we were created from,

and that we shall return to,

is it any different from the color of the soil

that glistens in the rain under the sun,

filling the room with petrichor,

and the memories of her land and her soil,

I wonder,

as I finish putting the concoction on my skin,

I wonder what these earthly ingredients feel

on being used to change the color of my skin,

another creation of nature itself, 

I wonder again.
is the brown of my skin,

 any different from the brown of the garden,

on which the bougainvillea flourishes,

and that which Baa tends to, pours water,

her heart, and so much love into?

I wonder,

is the brown of my skin any different,

from all these browns,

that get Baa's love and attention.

But mine.