Pillars of the Mughal Empire

In an empire headed by the son of Allah, lived the fearless daughter of the sun.

His throne was made of blood his crown was a souvenir of wars. His luxurious carpets sat on decaying corpses, love lay walked on in the muds.

Her clothes were stitched with strength, her zari was colored in brave. Her steps gave birth to Chandni Chowk, and she brought him back from his grave.

The corpses which hadn’t yet rested, had by the caresses of her farasha, finally found peace. History might’ve been written about him, but its pages still remember her crease.

Fire was her loyal puppet, it traced the movement of her ruth. Breathing behind the curtains of stereotypes unnumbered, she was still the only keeper of the truth.

She weaved magic with her fingertips, while he bathed in blood and wine. She gave voice to the weak and the mute, but he was a friend of time.

You see, in an empire headed by the son of Allah, lived the fearless daughter of the sun. The son may have ruled the land, but she was the queen of everyone.