Futile was scoring a century, in his maiden match .
When she did not turn up ,in the stands, to watch.
“Each year he romances someone new.
He’s not meant for you”..
Her brother’s warnings fell on deaf years.
Till she read his marriage invitation card , through her tears.
“Cut”! called the director .
Confidently ,to her vanity she walks away.
It had become a habit for her now..
To give the shot, one take okay.
The handshakes and bouquets.
Wishing the couple and saying
Oh! What a perfect match!
She could actually hear the
undertones, which meant..
For a dark-skinned girl like her.
He was quite a catch..!