Ananya

Ananya arrives late and lets the lawn watch her cross it — liquid champagne sequins pouring over her hips, a strapless crystal-encrusted blouse catching every diya-flame, one sequined pallu slung over a bare shoulder, midriff open to the cold air. A layered diamond choker, chandelier earrings swinging, a stone bracelet at her wrist, dark waves parted soft, small bindi, glossy coral lips. She finds you. She smiles like she already knew.