One year many years ago i found a abandoned book by the roadside , it was about a very young indian (as in from india) widow , in the city of widows , she was barley 12 years old , her husbands family had married her to her husband in an effort to use her dowry to find a cure for her younger dying husband. Then when he died they dropped her in the city of widows , she finds work making beaded bracelets , much as i think of these , before she eventually goes on to embroidering sari's , she earns her independence at a mid age , all because she started making bracelets in her youth. I imagine they were much like these , simple and rustic. Baubles of Vanity and endearment.
I found myself so absorbed in the making of these that i didn't dwell on deeper thoughts too much. A welcome relief from my day to day drama.
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