Golden crown floats uninterrupted in the green waters, Wet insects of the water condemn me, in the lazy sun. Almost melting, my soft, untouched 'corpse', is almost melting, Whilst waiting for you, for your touch. Every inch of my body aches and burns in the sun. Dragon flies from the flora flap their wings and nearly form a shelter. It has been eons, without you. All these rules posed by this wretched society, guised in my 'tulsi' mala, have bowed me down.

My golden times, my skin, my ornaments, my...life is lost in a haze, its long gone. It's just me now, adorning myself, shunned and hidden, away from the society, in my dear "pukur ghaat". Amidst the hazed waters, the nature advocates my longing. Your face, your memory creates a vacuum inside me. My hidden chest of ornaments is still there, it's still there...intact. The red 'aalta', symbolizing us, symbolizing marriage, it still adorns my feet...only to be washed away. My half wet body aches in this colourless, dead, widowed attire..... while it continues to float. Your memories keep coming back.

The nature, the birds on the barren branches, they sing for me, they fill me with love...they sympathize. I can almost still feel your hands against my naked back, I can still feel your touch. My tears, my sorrow, my pain, drip and fall past my chin, onto my shoulders, just like a simple swatch of wet Earth. My anguished bosom craves and longs for your warmth, for your passion, for your touch. In my solitary rendezvous, in my dear "pukur ghaat", I still, only dream of you. Hoping in desperation, for my bridal hue to come back to me.