Old Fashion:
Drying her hair, oft she’d think of his gaze
Filled with love, his eyes would be stuck at her
Even while sipping tea in their Verandah
With their large family
The silk sari, he picked for her on of his business trips
She draped it today for the 23rd time
Never letting a drop of oil or
a pinch of pickle touch the palloo of the saree,
With pride she fondled it’s edges,
sitting in the backyard, drying her hair
Though a tinge of white now seemed apparent
But her charm never seemed to fade
Just then, Holding his dhoti, he swiftly opened the gate,
That familiar sound..
She blushed and ran inside
Pouring the Masala Chaas* in a Brass Glass,
She put it on the table
As he sipped deliciously, she smiled
Wiping the kitchen,
she reminisced that moment when
she discovered that he loathed tea
but everyday when she prepared he had it
As their family dissolved into members, two
Everyday, she fell in love with this person, new