the hijab elegantly
covered her inner
angst from toe to
head sartorial serenity
tailor made through
the glint in her eyes
on my poetry spread
the god who created
her considered her
to be dead .. as living
dead she begged on
the streets earning her
daily bread ..was she
being forced to beg
by the man she had
wed..a thought hastily
hit my mind and suddenly
stealthily fled ..leaving me
for a moment silent frozen
half dead .. this poem in
memoriam to my best friend
from texas the one and only
fred ..mike rudy an indian
born american from pune
highly academic well read
