Tant Draped Hooghly
The evening, like a droopy dove eyed Bengali woman, sidled by my side softly. Her "Tant", a sari made of the finest indigo & saffron dyed silks, unfurled in the soft breeze & painted the sky similarly. She sat on the Hooghly Ghat steps, dipped her dainty fair feet in the holy waters of the Ganges tributary, it could be my vivid imagination, but the river glistened more lustrously. She smiled coyly, undid her incense smoked, thick lustrous locks out of her claw clipped braid, to usher in the night.
I grudgingly walked away from her & the twilight tinted City of Joy, with a promise that we would meet again.
Tant Draped Hooghly
The evening, like a droopy dove eyed Bengali woman, sidled by my side softly. Her "Tant", a sari made of the finest indigo & saffron dyed silks, unfurled in the soft breeze & painted the sky similarly. She sat on the Hooghly Ghat steps, dipped her dainty fair feet in the holy waters of the Ganges tributary, it could be my vivid imagination, but the river glistened more lustrously. She smiled coyly, undid her incense smoked, thick lustrous locks out of her claw clipped braid, to usher in the night.
I grudgingly walked away from her & the twilight tinted City of Joy, with a promise that we would meet again.