For the world, I'm his wife.
Every time i look at the world, i wear a facade of a happy face masking all my distress.
Yes we are educated, with top class degrees, still i face him everyday..
He beat me one day & everyday. Just like playing with a glass of wine. He does misuse me
Tough,i beg for his mere pardon of letting me go,
He tells that this is how a wife should be, treated as a child's play.
The golden band that aches my fingers feeling like the careless weeds.
I regret loving him, I'm tired of acting & showing up the virtual face i wear peopled with jhumkas, baali, bindi...
Sorrowfully, i tell, yes i loved him once..