A Shrouded Figure

She moved through the market outside Agra in a red sari and head covering both trimmed in gold.

She was alone and everyone kept their distance. The anonymity of her dress gave her the power of invisibility. Shrouded, she moved in the crowd with ease.

I caught a glimpse of her only briefly as she glided right to left through the open window frame of a bus parked on the street. I do not know her age. I do not know what beauty was hidden beneath the long drapes of linen covering her from head to toe. I do not know what she was looking for or what brought her to the market that morning.

She will remain a mystery to all but those closest to her.