Arrogance is her mate,
they say
Snobbishness, her sister.
Her mood swings are lunatic
and her witch- like arsenal brain
leaves none uninjured
they say.
A kin of Satan she is;
Her face, the primary seducer
Her voice, the other one
Her smile, yet another
they say.
Her trap isn’t an artefact,
she knits it with her look
and extracting energies
is her artifice
they say.
They say what they hear
But say not
what they see:
Those impotent eyes
abandoned by innocence
devoid of love
and now, even tears.
Her blink had clicked his snap
that was to be with her
till the final sealing.
The image is stolen now
Cataract seems to have hit her.
Longing tried to make it
its residence once
but they say
such guests are ephemeral
and before they go
they kill the optimism bug.
All that her eyes are known for now
are layers of kajal
and coloured contact lenses
that conceal the cataract
and infertility.

Like the candle flame
their love
finds its meaning
only in the dark.
In the daylight
they are like strangers.
An acknowledgemnet of acquaintance
is a mere formality
that they exercise
with several others.
He has a family
on this shoulders
and she has a society
to answer
Yet
the best place to dwell, they know
is in each other's arms.

He bought her diamonds the other day
and a dress a week ago
But they do not seem to
enchant her anymore.
Why she keeps on asking
the same question
"Do you really love me?"
He has affirmed the statement
a thousand times.
Why would he sprinkle the reward
of his hard earned labour
on someone he doesnt?
Of course he does.
More than any woman on the planet.
Atleast this is what he says.

Stupid woman,
Stupid desires.
Diamonds do not content her
Now she wants everything
His house
His family
Even his name.
Her wadrobe has a section for
a box of vermillion
but its empty
and she knows
that it will always be.
Because she is the 'other woman'
in his life
And no matter how much he proclaims
inside those four walls
his love for her,
the 'other woman'
she will always be.