That was the age of nineteen, The age for searchi...

That was the age of nineteen,
The age for searching for the queen.
Many were spotted on line,
None of whom was to my design.

I sighted her on the bank
Of a tank on a dusky night,
With her two sisters to flank.
It was a temple festive feat.

She was fatter than the sisters.
She was darker than the sisters.
She only pulled me to her side
By her freshness and youngness.

Can I pull her? – A challenge,
Her formidability threw to me
To test how best I can stand
To win over a woman’s hand.

If beaten and beaten, even
A rock can be well shaken.
By repeatedly seen, the rock
Was moved. I was in peak.

I found her home and family,
Which was on my way luckily.
Her clan was just one step away.
That was the block in my way.

I won her vision every morning
And evening, from her balcony.
I won her consent in picking
My letters, thrown from bicycle.

I won her presence in a tryst
That she planned in a lone house.
With her maid, she gave audience
And urged me for an alliance.

She was there so near me as fire.
I stood there bare as tinder.
No touch, no kiss, I was perfect.
I wanted to earn her respect.

Badly I buried my lust
To stand high in her estimate.
Sadly I hurried to exit
As a noble, missing a feast.

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