Like the red flare flower waiting for the moon's light,
he stood right there, eagerly waiting for his bride's first sight.
Along with the chords of the violin, slowly she walks in.
Red bangles on her wrist, the sharp sound of her anklet,
the mole on her chin and the smile on her lips,
and when she entered the hall lifting her Ghaghra
she let him drown helplessly in the ocean of desire
of making her his, for the rest of his life.
It was more than a dress that slipped down her shoulders,
there were more than a galaxy of stars scattered over her dress.
She was just beautiful and he was in awe looking at her,
her smile radiated confidence, ease in her skin.
She had magic in her, the kind they talk about in those fairy tales.
When she said that she doesn't know how to love a man,
he whispered to her, knowing how to love a man was unnecessary,
all she wanted to do is to exist.