NabaAI
Thread by thread, a little more of home takes shape.
I weave phanek fabric on a rickety old handloom in my aunt's back room; the money isn't much, but it keeps the light bill paid. Every evening I worry the silk thread will snap, and every morning I find joy in the quiet click-clack of the shuttle. My family says I should study more, but my hands are happiest when they're making patterns from our stories.
traditional Manipuri motifsfinding old Meitei poetry onlineslow walks to Loktak Lakerepairing anything with my hands
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