A puff of smoke rose swirling up.
A curly haired, medium stature guy with dark complexion stood beneath. I could see a not so pleasant smile on his face and from the creaks of his lips smoke came out. One one hand, he had a smoking cigarette and was tapping it and waving it in the air and on the other was a mobile phone which he was looking at.
Beside him stood a shorter lady wearing a bright green saree. She held a child on her one hand and a milk bottle on the other. She was trying to feed him so that he would stop whining. A heavy handbag hung on her shoulder; it looked so heavy that it was almost pulling her down. Down below, near her feet was a big blue duffel bag.
I was standing somewhere near, waiting for a bus, tired and hoping to escape the harsh sun as early as possible.
A little while later, the guy spoke something to her and he started walking. She bent down, took her duffel bag and followed him.
I sniggered. Who would treat his own queen like a donkey, I thought. Is that sacred yellow thread/chain they tie at marriage nothing but a rein, I chuckled.
Don't treat your lady like a beast of burden.
Carry her load, not because she is a weaker version, but because she is your queen.