Don't mind the lyrics

She danced with fire upon her feet,

With a brush in hand, a rhythm so sweet.

A whisper lost through ancient shrine,

Painting a picture in every line.

Her lehenga, a reminder of art long gone,

Each twirl, a prayer from dusk till dawn.

Her ghungroo speaks of rebellious queens,

Where calligraphy kisses Sanskrit screens.

Her henna bore designs crafted in dreams,

Each shape, each stroke, a river of themes.

She moves, she drifts, she stays afloat—

A living verse in a timeless coat.