This poem is about the first bride of the city Hyderabad —Hayat Bakshi. I am dedicating this poem to the brides of Hyderabad.  ss
Disclaimer: Although the characters in this poem are real, the storyline is a work of fiction.

Reposed under the bough of her heart
Bakshi gazed inly to her soul
Looked upward looked downward
Realized the cherubim she was

Days, months, years, gone
Extending her boundaries
Like doth water without confines
Lost in her pluck to agglomerate

By the tramp of her sire, withdrawn
To senses, flashing her whims
To the seraphim she is now;
What is roving your mind? asked Quli

The time is nigh for the joy
Brides hope to have, she said
Wearily, like a bolt of lightning
Quli passed fiat for her big day, anon

Oyster formed pearls in fain,
So her tender ears dangle in
Gleam, like a twinkle of morning
Dew pierced by sunbeams

Walls of Charminar flowed lac,
So her nimble arms chime with
Clink of lac bangles, like raindrops
Drumming the calm wintery waters

Gladder Bakshi blessed the duo,
Together they became the yin and yang
Of every coffer damsels hope to have
Ensconced in the crown of laad bazaar…Project K