The Bangle Seller

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"Bangles... Bangles..Bangles..."
New bangles here! Full of colors!"
"Bangles just for your liking!"
"Dazzling shades, beauty to adorn your hands!"

Bangles, bangles, bangles!
For your happiness, for your love!
For your family's prosperity, for your little one's smile!
Every bangle tells a story..."

"Glass bangles! Delicate bangles!
To wear on your hands, to fill your heart with joy!
Bangles, bangles, bangles!
For a new beginning, for a brighter tomorrow!
Here I am, your very own bangle seller!"

It's not just bangles I carry on my head,
It's a world, the roof of my home,
My child's laughter, my mother's medicine,
A path of life, steeped in salty tears.

"Bangles, bangles! New bangles here!"

I carry glass bangles, in a hundred hues,
A hundred dreams woven into each;
Red for love, green for hope,
But in many eyes, only the price is seen.

"Bangles, bangles! Full of colors!"

As I traverse the streets,
Some doors open, some remain shut.
"Aren't these old-fashioned? Don't you have Chinese models?"
Such dismissive words fall like embers,
Though my heart aches, I stand calm.

The jingle of bangles, the laughter of young women,
Often help conceal the pains within me.
In love and in rage, these glass bangles weep,
With every break, I feel the sorrow of a shattering heart.
Even when broken, the bangle shards weave dreams,
Even when shattered, they glimmer like the flame of a new beginning.

When they break and fall on the bed or floor,
Every scattered shard wounds my chest.
That is my toil, my dreams,
Tears scattered on the earth.

"Bangles, bangles! Dazzling shades!"

In heat and rain, I walk on foot,
Moving constantly, endlessly.
Midway, I hear a call,
"Would you like some tea, brother?" Isn't that beauty?
A word like that fills my heart,
That is my profit in this trade.
One order – five sets of bangles,
Tomorrow's milk money will be earned.
But for that, I climbed
A ten-story building, without a lift,
Brief moments burrowing through floors.
Sweat melting on every step,
No one truly knows this "bangle seller."

"Bangles, bangles! For your happiness!"

For many, I am just a "bangle seller,"
But I know, I am a culture;
A moving symbol of craftsmanship,
A refugee who came to hold memories.

When a bangle breaks, it is I who shatter,
Behind it is not skill, but tears.
This is no ordinary task,
This is my child's confession, my life.

In the government's accounts, I'm a blind spot,
I don't even have time to fill out forms.
No scribe to record my accounts,
But each of my bangles,
Is a social lesson, a lesson that answers
How life should be lived.

The last bangle, in a girl's hand,
She said, "Brother, your work is not small."
Those words are enough to get me through the day,
To carry bangles again the next morning.

"Bangles, bangles! For a new beginning!"

What I carried was not bangles, but the burden of a world,
The strength of a family, the rosary of life,
Reaching new doors,
A glass adolescence on a head!

"Glass bangles! Delicate bangles!
To wear on your hands, to fill your heart with joy!
Bangles, bangles, bangles!
For a new beginning, for a brighter tomorrow!
Here I am, your very own bangle seller!"

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