By Shruti Sinha
In the city of Alaka, where moonshine dances
With lush gardens and pristine rivers, the landscape enhances
One might ponder that the life goes in harmony
However, here I am , the epitome of irony
My husband is the Yaksha who was exiled by the lord kubera
For neglecting his responsibility
And not following his duty
But little did they know
There was another possibility
That I could be the one who's actually guilty
We share an emotional bond
Which is why he's so deeply attached
And this caused him to make an oversight
Oh, how melancholy it it!
To know that your loved one must be suffering
Facing adversities must be so challenging
Oh! How sorrowful it is to witness vibrant flowers and marvelous scenery
When the colour of my life is not quite as greenery