SHE IS SOMEONE CALLED....

You may see her coy hands in the palanquin,
A joy of a new life.
The veil covers her face-
Beneath it a cocktail of emotions.
She leaves for her man’s home.
The man who would fill her life
With mirth, prosperity and children.
The first few days are bliss.
Both lost in the magical world of love.
Then comes the pain of separation.
She treasures that kiss on her forehead,
Losing herself amidst his family.
She pines for him each day,
Reads his letters many times over.
Her life is a patient wait now.
He comes back again, she renews her pledge
To be his forever. She is in ecstasy.
He adds that completeness into her life.
But rushes back before she could tell it to him.
He risks it all this time.
Her face is all that he can recall
In those final moments.
She shrieks,she breaks apart
Just like those red glass bangles.
Then one fine day, she hears about
The gallantry of her man from “big” people.
Her heart bleeds yet she stands still.
She is someone called……
A war widow.