The new bride

She walks around the ceremonial fire

In all her finery, in her wedding attire.

Eyes downcast, hooded, shy and coy

Shining with & yet hiding her desire.

 

Demurely yet assuredly, behind the boy

She walks, her sadness tinged with joy.

Bedecked in gold jewels, attired in yellow

Do unbidden emotions in her heart cloy?

 

Holding the hand of her chosen fellow

She walks till the fire is muted, is mellow.

Under golden lights of a flowered dome

To the music of the shehnai, like a cello

 

Out of the mandap & into her new home

The new bride walks, her steps don’t roam.

She pays obeisance to the Gods, she bows

And settles in for life, like the sun at gloam.

 

 

 

 

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About Sonal Singh

An author, storyteller, and full-time observer of life’s glorious absurdities. I write humour-laced stories where chaos wears fluffy fur, emotions arrive uninvited, and middle-class Indian households become ecosystems of drama, love, and unsolicited advice. Armed with sarcasm, caffeine, and alarming emotional attachment to stray creatures, I believe compassion is less of a virtue and more of a lifestyle disorder. One that I embrace. When I’m not writing, I’m usually busy running a full-time HR consultancy business, rescuing animals, or trying to maintain dignity while being emotionally manipulated by my pets. Through my literary work, I try to blend humour with heart, celebrating the messy coexistence of humans and non-humans in modern urban India.

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