Dame

She is punctual on a spell,

Her hair tied neat with a garland of Lily and some jewels.

Tucked with a well-pleated saree,

She enters my home my territory.

Though beaten by her alcoholic comrade,

Morning she wears a huge explicit face.

Does all her chores without fail,

Like a family member, she cares and reciprocates.

When she falls ill or sick,

There comes an earthquake shaking the brick of my home.

For the entire world, she may be a Maid.

But for me, she survives extraordinaire mate.