From the land of pure white sands comes a little girl called Bhavna.
Her soul as beautiful as the shining salt marshes struck by moonlight.
Shy but confident with sparkling eyes, little Bhavna is the queen of the night.

She sits at the desert bazaar with little things made by her.
Dolls, jewels, purses, everything seems a treasure.
Her hands are gifted by the grace of God, she has talents most would crave for.
She may seem small but nothing is impossible for her.

She sat beside her brother who was there to help her out.
“Buy our little things please” he would shout.
Together they would engage tourists and tell them stories of their village.
Spending time with them seemed such a privilege.

Right next to little Bhavna’s spot is a shop with prettier things
A girl with a green veil was secretly searching for friends
Her grandpa ran the shop, saying ‘NO, NO, NO, no photos if you dont buy from my store’
It worked like a charm, stuff was sold so photos could be taken of the pretty things she wore.

A friendly face and a bright smile
She loved chatting with people that passed her by.
Her grandpa was the protective kind, he believed girls should be educated and have their own mind.
Not married too soon or in life she’d be left behind.
He believed in his little girl, so sent her to school, the old man was definitely no fool.

What a skill she had too, the girl with the green veil
She loved making jewels, the kinds you saw in a tale.
She had a sweet charm so made friends easily,
She loved inviting them to visit her family.

Lo and behold, Bhavna was at the door
Who would know she’d be living in the same home.
Turns out they were sisters, little Bhavna and the girl with the green veil
A magical story of flower power was going to unveil

Turns out it was a village full of sisters
Many more girls than there were misters
Each girl unique in her own way
Working through evenings, going to school by day
Their earnings brought fortune to their village
They rule the world, they’re anything but average!!

They were proud of their craft, and why shouldn’t they be
It was their sweat and blood in each piece, you see.
They even mastered the skill to sell,
Their smiles and words could put you under a spell

The older women still hid their faces,
Tradition and new beliefs blend harmoniously in such places.
They lived a different life but took a stand for their daughters,
They wanted a better tomorrow for them, such is the love of mothers.

These girls will someday grow to be wonder women,
They have a keen eye and clarity in vision
With their hands firmly placed on their hips, they’ve set out to rule the world
Their art travels to far away lands, across seas, have you heard?

Jewels, oh please, thats just the start
They make carpets and bedsheets, no end to their art.
Each artist has a speciality, giving each piece an individuality,
You’ll wonder if your skills match up, thats the reality!!

The little boys were curious, they played and pranked each other
In a village where women ran the show there must be some order
The sisters were making sure the boys behaved themselves
Cheeky little fellows were being such a nuisance!!

The boys that grew up to become men, were not so naughty any more
They had their own skills and helped out in every chore
They milked cows and made goods of leather
Had very kind eyes and words that were tender.

Together every person made a difference
No job is big or small, that is the essence
They did work with leather, animal skin that is true
Not the best of things, but in the village there’s few things to do.
They made mirrors, wallets and lamps
They were experts at working with their hands.

The village life is fairly simple,
The use of animals is mostly ethical
The cows and buffaloes are treated well, its one large family, the animals and men

When the young and old work together progress can be made
And so their precious art shall never fade
Every culture is special and must be preserved
Together we must give them the respect they deserve

The next time you travel try to buy local
If you like what you buy make sure you’re vocal
Support communities that live around you
You never know what good that might do
Just remember little Bhavna, the girl from Kutch
Lend your support , its not asking for much!

Words by Meher Malik
Photography by Ozzie Sai