In my bedroom dresser, in a little red box

sit two gold bangles.

They are pure yellow gold

and the pair are a set, though I believe

they once belonged to part of a bigger set

some time ago.

They were given to my grandmother

and passed down to my mother

upon her marriage.

They are very simple, wide bands and

wear and age have pitted the surface

and begun to affect

the integrity of their modest design.

I imagine they were the kind of thing

that could be melted down

and refashioned into more ornate jewellery

or sold by weight quite easily

depending on the circumstances.

I believe many girls at the time

in those Punjabi villages

would have been presented with similar items

by their parents before they departed

on their long journeys.

My mother wore them on her journey to England.

When I hold them in my hands

I like to think not of that long period

when she owned them

but the time before that,

her waiting for Papaji

by the gate (like so many other gates)

her wrists,

still unadorned and naked.