Poem: Dacca Gauzes, The
Author: Agha Shahid Ali (1949—2001) [bio]
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4    <name>
5      <firstname>Agha Shahid</firstname>
6      <lastname>Ali</lastname>
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8    <life-events>
9      <date ty="birth" circa="false" suffix="ad">1949</date>
10      <date ty="death" circa="false">2001</date>
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1

Those transparent Dacca gauzes

known as woven air, running

water, evening dew:

a dead art now, dead over

5

a hundred years. “No one

now knows,” my grandmother says,

“what it was to wear

or touch that cloth.” She wore

it once, an heirloom sari from

10

her mother's dowry, proved

genuine when it was pulled, all

six yards, through a ring.

Years later when it tore,

many handkerchiefs embroidered

15

with gold-thread paisleys

were distributed among

the nieces and daughters-in-law.

Those too now lost.

In history we learned: the hands

20

of weavers were amputated,

the looms of Bengal silenced,

and the cotton shipped raw

by the British to England.

History of little use to her,

25

my grandmother just says

how the muslins of today

seem so coarse and that only

in autumn, should one wake up

at dawn to pray, can one

30

feel that same texture again.

One morning, she says, the air

was dew-starched: she pulled

it absently through her ring.

35

40

45

By Agha Shahid Ali from The Half-Inch Himalayas (Wesleyan University Press, 1987). © 1987 by Agha Shahid Ali and reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press.

To cite this poem:

MLA
Ali, Agha Shahid. “Dacca Gauzes, The.” Columbia Granger's World of Poetry Online. 2026. Columbia University Press. 22 May. 2026. <http://www.columbiagrangers.org>.

Chicago Manual of Style
Agha Shahid Ali. “Dacca Gauzes, The.” Columbia Granger's World of Poetry Online. http://www.columbiagrangers.org (accessed May 22, 2026).

          
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55        <line n="3">water, evening dew:</line>
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58        <line n="4">a dead art now, dead over</line>
59        <line n="5">a hundred years. “No one</line>
60        <line n="6">now knows,” my grandmother says,</line>
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63        <line n="7">“what it was to wear</line>
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73        <line n="13">Years later when it tore,</line>
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80        <line n="18">Those too now lost.</line>
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82      <stanza>
83        <line n="19">In history we learned: the hands</line>
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85        <line n="21">the looms of Bengal silenced,</line>
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88        <line n="22">and the cotton shipped raw</line>
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93        <line n="25">my grandmother just says</line>
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103        <line n="31">One morning, she says, the air</line>
104        <line n="32">was dew-starched: she pulled</line>
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107        <line n="35" />
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118          By Agha Shahid Ali from
119          <i>The Half-Inch Himalayas</i>
120          (Wesleyan University Press, 1987). © 1987 by Agha Shahid Ali and reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press.
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