Love

Ahhh...She wore a lovely red saree.... A deep sanguine red , not the alarming stinging red but a peaceful pleasing red . She wore a Bindi , A bright red spot on her forehead making her a chic persona , Her face pale being a deep contrast to her bindi . She looked frail . The frail delicate looking lady was nonetheless very beautiful .

He , a perfect gentleman . With the air of the stiff ideal man of the British era . Immaculate in a half white shirt and black pleated trousers . The cuff links were a eye-catching gold . His shoes more shined than many peoples hair is combed . The manner was as proud as a lion simmered . The weather , cloudy and not chilly . A perfect June morning in bangalore the erstwhile pensioner's paradise ' . The time early 6'o clock .

They were off holding hands , looking more together than the latest celebrity couple . There was the unmistakable look of being deeply in love . Content filled eyes wouldn't be a cliché .

What's intriguing about this ?

The septuagenarian gentleman couldn't take more than couple of steps without stopping , out of the breath and the pretty , old lady in her sixties I suppose was bent with age . They held hands and ambled down my street one early thursday morning left me contemplating .