Laundry Day

Mathangi Subramanian

My name is Mary.
This is where I live.

Today is a new day.
That means it’s time to do the washing.

Everyone’s arms are covered in bubbles.

Soapy puddles make rainbows in the streets.

Grace Aunty washes her uniform.
Tomorrow she will wear it to her clinic.

Jauna Aunty hangs up the blanket
her grandmother wove in her village.
The yarn is dyed the colours of Jauna Aunty’s home.

Fatima Aunty’s line is draped with scarves.
They will smell sweet when she
wraps them around her head.

Zakir Chacha’s autowalla uniform
hangs outside his house.
He sews a missing button onto the clean shirt.

At Geetha Aunty’s house,
cotton saris sway in the breeze.
They sound like birds flapping their wings.

Joseph Uncle’s line is covered with socks.
They keep his feet warm during his shift
as a security guard.

My brother, David, and I start washing
our school uniforms.
We scrub away the ink stains on the pockets and
the chalk dust on the sleeves.

Tomorrow, our clothes will get dirty again.
But right now, everything is clean.