Komal: Handwoven Pure Cotton from Assam

Skin remembers me longer than eyes do, the kind of cotton that lingers as a feeling after it's been folded away. My pink carries the shade of a first hush, the colour before a word is spoken. Yellow and red buta wander across me without pattern, scattered the way affection is, unplanned and everywhere at once. At my centre, paisley gathers soft against soft, no sharp edge anywhere to interrupt it. Red checkered borders keep watch above and below, quiet enough not to compete with all that gentleness. My tassels hang loose in pink and red, close enough to brush skin with every step. I am Komal, woven for the ones who love slowly.