She places her bindi in the middle of her forehead
And steps back from the mirror.
Admiring, but not content.
Her sandals go clippity-clop on the marble
As she descends the rounding staircase.
He waits downstairs for her,
Impatient and preoccupied.
He hears her footsteps, and looks up.
She finds him waiting for her.
She presents herself.
He takes her in.
Her shoulder length curls.
Her kajal lined eyes.
Her bright blue sari.
He takes her in.
He stays silent.
She waits for his nod.
Or even appreciation.
But she gets none.
Eyes become downcast
With uncertainty and sense of failure.
They prepare to leave.
Both silent.
Unable, but also, not wanting to speak.
Mutely making their way,
One disappointed,
One amazed.

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