We navigate our parallel orbits,
Two satellites tethered by vows,
Yet spinning in separate spheres.
**Morning Commute:**
He, the harbinger of dawn,
Weaves compassion into his tie,
A smile for the rickshaw puller,
A nod to the chaiwala on the corner.
She, eyes fixed on her phone,
Calculates deadlines and metrics,
Her heart a fortress, guarded,
Against the weight of ancestral expectations.
**Lunch Breaks:**
He shares his tiffin with colleagues,
Roti and aloo sabzi, fragrant and warm.
Their laughter echoes through cubicles,
A camaraderie forged in shared lunches.
She, alone at her desk, orders in,
Sushi or salad, exotic and distant.
Her solitude a refuge from prying eyes,
From the whispers of judgmental aunties.
**Evenings at Home:**
He tends to the balcony garden,
Marigolds and mint thriving under his care.
Their petals mirror the hues of his heart,
A kaleidoscope of love for all living things.
She, behind closed doors, reads poetry,
Rumi and Tagore, their verses a lifeline.
Her soul unfurls, wings brushing the sky,
Seeking solace beyond the mundane.
**Family Gatherings:**
He dances at weddings, twirling dervishes,
His laughter contagious, arms outstretched.
Uncles pat his back, "Good boy, beta,"
As if applause can fill the void within.
She, a silent observer, sips her wine,
Observes the rituals—the haldi, the sindoor.
Her glass holds secrets, liquid courage,
To defy tradition's iron grip.
**Bedtime Whispers:**
He cradles her worries, like fragile birds,
Nestles them in the crook of his neck.
Promises to be her shelter, her monsoon,
As rain taps against the windowpane.
She, eyes closed, dreams of distant shores,
Where love isn't measured in samosas,
Where she can be more than a dutiful daughter,
Where solitude doesn't taste like compromise.
**Living Together, Alone:**
Their love, a delicate equation,
Balancing duty and desire, sacrifice and self.
In this modern yuga, they write their own sutras,
Two souls, entwined yet seeking autonomy.
