A saree clad woman, applying bindi on her forehead,
singing tunes to herself, moves towards her mirror,
wondering if she looked beautiful,
"its the day of love", she said.
She blushed as her rosy cheeks sparkled,
and smelled of a rosy fragnance,
a thousand mile long her dimpled smile,
bore her love unheard and unsaid,
Her hazel eyes looked extraordinary, expressing the unexpressed,
her lips, bright red, told the untold;
she rose and walked towards the corridor,
stealthily, with her bosom pressed.
Anxiously standing, she watched
other women looked their best too;
she wondered as pink and red sarees
walked around and gossiped about their fellow men.
She didn't expect roses to come her way,
yet she smiled, as the day brought some
extra earnings and make a living
for herself and her child.
Lost in her thoughts, struck by a manly figure,
she promptly recomposed herself,
thus taking him in, and laid bare
the bruises lying underneath.