She draped her fleet over her shoulder and ran her fingers through the perfect folds; ironing every single crevice, with her warm palms buttery smooth. She sat herself down in front of the mirror and painted her long nails. She packed her face with foundation and drew her deep brown eyes into the most perfect cat eye. Her lips, she coloured with a deep dark red, a red as bold as her personality.

As she stood up to check on her outfit, she ran her fingers over the skirt of her saree; over her rather generous hips. The cold breeze blew on her svelte waist; she pulled up the cloth to hide her fortune from the colder eyes that scoured her day in and day out. The breeze swept her luscious hair away from her face revealing her chiseled face. Oh, a beauty that the eyes couldn’t behold.

The queen was only missing a crown. She secured her hair with a garland of beautifully blossomed Jasmines. You could smell her enchanting spell from a hundred meters away; A beauty so bold that the eyes couldn’t behold. A beauty that you cannot touch or taste and yet a beauty that had one more sense to tease.

She pulled out dozens of bangles from her cupboard of mesmerizing tricks and put them on one by one, unable to restrain herself from running her fingers over her feathery soft skin. She hung a pair of Jhumkas as big as her heart over her ears and made them swing with a gentle dance of her head.

Her beauty elevated further with her boundless confidence and brought a mammoth smile to her face. She laughed as a sense of credence crept into her body. To her eyes that could not see and her brain unpolished with norms of perfection; beauty was all about perception.