He had a preference for skirts
She was a dresser of the salwars

He came on the bike
Hesitant she was in walking alone

Driving gloves,  as he took off
It was her chunri which blew him away

Flicking away the dust he stood
While she came walking coyly steps measured

He asked in a tone irritated
She spoke in a low soft hush

He stood looking at her, in a daze
She was in a world new nibbling on the kulfi stick

He stood looking, and
She sat nibbling and gazing

He could have spent his life so
She couldn’t wait to get home before mom calls