A Lass Goes To School In Delhi

The bright shining visage
As glowing as the glossy morning sun.
Brighter the legs,
Though not fully seen,
That pulls a thousand eye’s apples
The skirt tangles
Above the knee.
Chubby thighs and knees too.
It was a sober chilly foggier morn
And the fainting Beings.
The rest wool flocked
The socks locked ankles
That protrude the blackly shoes
And the unmindful bosoms swing.
The neatened curly locks hang on her temples
Thoughtful, mischievous timid eyes
With conniving looks –
They look and don’t look.
Cognizant of being starred at.
Look at everyone and not at anyone.
Her whitish brown angular countenance
And the big bag of assumed knowledge on her back.
She walks into the school bus GF 8,
Lost herself in thinking of thoughts -both hers and others.
Pulling down the tens of ‘manly’ sights.
And the unmindful women
Both in envy and admiration.