The Bride

So majestically she sits there.
As silent as you dare.
Red henna adorns each palm.
And, she watches, poised and calm.

She's draped in red and gold.
Charming and beautifully bold.
Decked head to toe in jewellery.
She's ever father's glee.

She stands lovely and dazzling.
A true diva without hassling.
Every spectator's immense delight.
Lighting up this special night.

Today's her day for sure.
Occasion for being coy and demure.
Her eye glistens back a tear,
her mind suppressing another fear.

Heart facing surge of emotions,
She fights all preconceived notions.
Her walk is slow and fragile,
Yet she wears a lovely, shy smile.

When she stands aside the GROOM,
their dream is in full bloom.
Groom's epitome of Dignified pride,
Shines the lovely INDIAN BRIDE

Monument

A look that could take your breath away, 

A look that could make your day.

 

The monument looms into view. 

Seen by many, understood by few.

The ethereal symbol of love, 

That monument blessed from above. 

The pillars weave their own magical tale,

A love story that shall never fail.

Etched in marble, stunningly proud,

Lie the two lovers in a marble shroud.

Stands regally white in all its splendour,

Built with all the passion and ardour. 

Each white marble, . . .

That which tells a story,

Makes up the stunning TAJ MAHAL in all its glory!

The Prisoner

If you want to see the world,

go meet a girl.

Strong and pure, 

Like a hidden pearl. 

She always belongs to someone.

Playing roles more than one. 

A mother, wife, sister or child.

Now, a relentless victim

of intentions gone evil and wild.

Every night she lies awake,

Wondering how much more could she take.

Silently she bears and endures

praying for a final cure.

Hiding deep within her eyes.

Wicked truths and beautiful lies.

She wants no revenge for every tear.

Instead, looking there and here

for an end to her deep-rooted fear.

Maybe she could've ended it all.

And still be able to stand tall.

But enough's enough.

she has to now stay tough.

Within herself she wages battles and wars.

Can't you feel her pain and scars?

Listening to her silent cries,

why don't we realise?

Everyday she's born and again dies.

Why has innocence lost its age.

Why doesn't man control 

his madness and rage?

Please oh please!!

Set the prisoner free . . .

From her invisible cage.