In that forest-edge sari you looked so fine. I would gaze from afar, mouth agape, knowing a goddess had descended from the heavens!
After digging earth I'd feel such thirst for water; I'd run to the well's edge. But seeing you, what water, what thirst... everything would vanish. Can any person be this beautiful! This beautiful!
Tell me, why did you wear that nose ring? How did you know this ring would match this sari!? We village girls are supposed to stay clueless, our saris wrinkled, hair uncombed for two straight days. Then at least we'd have that excuse to look at city girls. Don't you understand? Why do you walk around so neat and put-together?
If you keep this up, will I remember the city girls anymore? Will I remember that I left my earth-digging work and came here just to drink water? Will I remember that your wedding is next Ashwin month? How will I remember you're not mine, how?