Waris Shah waxes poetic as he describes the beauty of his heroine. She is as beautiful as the moon and her plaits, capable of slaying, frame her face like moonbeams. Her complexion evokes the color of a shooting star and her intoxicated eyes, the color of the narcissus flower are as beautiful as those of a doe or a wagtail. Her cheeks blossom like a rose and her perfectly arched eyebrows are like legendary bows, fashioned in Lahore. The kohl that adorns her eyes is black and its darkness evokes the feriocity of Sikh warriors who fall upon Mughal lands across the Yamuna. She is the queen of the women’s assemblies, where she struts proudly with the gait of an intoxicated elephant. The moles that adorn her face are the work of a master calligrapher. Such is her imperious beauty that anyone who desires to behold her is fated to suffer and yet the very sight of Heer is a pligramge of great virtue.