She looks young and beautiful,
Even with her head shaved off,
She has clear eyes filled with pain,
She spoke to no one.
She would come every evening around the same time to this temple,
Climbs all the steps barefoot,
Sitting in the same spot,
Staring at nothing.
She never entered the temple nor was seen praying,
And when she leaves she seem calm,
The kind of calmness you would be scared of,
Making you come back the next evening to check on her.
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.