Tale of a silk sari!

Here is Githa Hariharan about a gift she got from MS when she was nineteen. A nice piece: I liked the ending, especially:

I’d rather have kept the sari as a memento of my first meeting with Subbulakshmi. But the burglar changed that story. I too must change his. I have imagined into existence an ending for my burglar’s encounter with my cupboard. It is an open ending, the kind I like. I have firmly resisted the unhelpful suggestions of friends that by now, my silk saris must have been melted down for a few little lumps of silver. This is what I see though I have not seen my burglar: I am convinced there must be a woman in his life, and that he has given her Subbulakshmi’s green and gold sari. As a bonus, I would like to think that the sari, despite its years of hiding, despite the dishonest way it was made to exit from my life, will bring some grace — some kind of soul-changing music — into this woman’s life.

Link via Indian Writing.