Ankur Mutreja
Standing frail, she diffused her smell far and wide. Not a man who was not attracted to this beauty of fairies. Not a man who didn’t wish to appropriate her for self. But her misty eyes were still poignant for love. For which vulnerability, the men staged duals a plenty. Yet she remained Virgin, for none had the limbs enough. The luxury of choice she didn't have, But her heart plotted a rebel nevertheless. An evening clouded the Sun of the West. When the sounds of prayer were sent in the air with smell. But the dog the men are, they heard only smell. And she remained Virgin, for none had the ears enough. In the morning of the sun after an endless night of hope. She dreamt of a prince of valor, chivalry and a lovely soul. He came to rescue her from the grip of darkness. And embraced her in his arms with love and dearness. Alas! Her dream broke for it was a day-dream in the Sun. And she remained Virgin, for had she not the eyes enough. . Never did she like the shabby wires inside her head. And gave all credit to her heart, eyes, face and smell. Finally, she turned to her mind in despair for help. And the advice she got was to perspire and act, And she remained Virgin no more, For none had the mouth enough to ask the question again.
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