A saree date again, I am awfully late, a frentic ransack of the wardrobe and my eyes rest on a pretty Pochampalli. Yes, yet again, this one a cheerful sunshine yellow with the tease of a radiant red border and pallu, the apparent simplicity cleverly concealing a meticuluous geometric precision that transcends boundaries of space and time, the fruit of labour of years, maybe decades of adroit master weavers.