Dents & Mystery Poem by Sumita Jetley

In a sari of grace, she stands tall and bright,
By a car that gleams in the soft morning light.
A brush of a rickshaw, a child's playful hit,
Tiny marks on her car—small dents that sit.

Big ones are simple, they call for a fix,
A trip to the workshop, no hesitation, no mix.
But it's the little ones, the barely-there scars,
That leave Priya pondering as she looks at her car.

She runs her fingers along each tiny crease,
Wondering if perfect is worth her peace.
Is every mark a call to repair and restore,
Or is elegance found in letting go a bit more?

Her home, her life, every detail in place,
Yet the small imperfections ask her to face—
Is beauty in fixing, making all pristine,
Or in finding grace in what's not fully seen?

For the dents don't matter when the road is long,
It's the ride, the journey, the way she stays strong.
Priya smiles, choosing balance, not haste,
Embracing the dents, with elegance and grace.