Taarini Saraf

I got a pocket, pocketful of sunshine,

To seek warmth on a cold day

To keep my phone and keys

While sipping on a hot chocolate

Or when eyes bore into me

In a crowded room or near an empty elevator

What’s in your pocket?

Or is it just “decoration”?

Classes and playtime in the morn

Replaced by online lessons, the new norm

Thankful that the mighty mite spared us

To enjoy the little things this day

Singing Ringa Ringa Roses,

a pocket full of posies,

Gratitude spun l’arte d’arrangiarsi

Conjuring “leftover” fabrics into pockets

Pockets to pour love into,

To empower, to awaken independence

Form or function?

What’s in your pocket?

New Look’s silhouettes favour handbags

socially distancing the pockets

Only to stuff crisp bills into bras,

Make “finger loops”

Or depend on his pocket

Weren’t YSL & Coco Chanel loud enough?

And ‘Polly Pockets’ discontinued

as Dior bid pockets adieu

17 years, my life so far

Haven’t witnessed many revolutions yet

But one, I know, is currently buffering…

And nudges the query: What’s in your pocket?