It’s funny that’s what it is. Funny that a young man thinking about prospects almost in midnight . And it’s funny how a random action can trigger a random, totally un-syncing memory. It always lodged in my brain! Well, we’ll never find out, because it’s amalgam of gesture.
I met her in the late summer of the year of two thousand and fifteen. And it was the first️️ time I noticed something unusual about a person, even though everything was almost perfectly elegant. Her eyes. Her eyes were intriguing. She smiled gracefully, widest, happiest, most childlike smile. But her eyes. Her eyes seemed almost a different entity of their own.
I influence my mind to remember her eyes as I think about sitting on the lawn. I turned around my chair and glanced at her; her soft gaze never fluttered and her eyes gazing around the lids. I did a inimitable job, and she had my attention just fine. Her smile precisely frizzed and spread just through the cheekbone and extended further through the earlobe. Always smiling. Her tiny teeth always standing out.
I was attracted first towards her eyes and then gravitated towards her being. She was animated, her hands all over the place as she explained last evening’s colourful exploits. She joked loudly and whispered softly, and always used to stand out, like thin ray of sunshine during a heavy down pour. When rains came, her mood undulate as if there was a separate monsoon going on inside her. Innocence and arrogance twisted together.
I cheerfully smiled at her. Her lidless eyes were sparkling with hopefulness and expectations. I couldn’t let down her. She is so generous.One day you’d find her singing in the rain, occasionally oscillate to spit the rain water out of her mouth, other days you’d find her sitting by the window desiring for the thunder to roar and rumble, coffee mug seized tight in both hands, music playing in the background. But her eyes deceived some other unearthly season.
In one year, ten months and seventeen days that I knew her amidst sharing exchanging nonsense during sweltering mid-afternoon, or playing games, attended birthday parties, planned diverse outings, night-outs, surprises & long- drives , but the words we spoke to each other’s are etched there forever, invisible to all existence but me. But seared in my mind is the memory of her eyes.
I wanted to stare at her pretty eyes without the blinking, thus she let me cut out those eyelids. And when she couldn’t find a reason to smile, I put on a ever-lasting one for her.
For the first time in my twenty years of existence, I gained knowledge to read eyes, to glance into the revealing windows to the soul, and I found out that eyes exposes everything. Her eyes were black as coal, but they exhibited everything. She had been through in her twenty-two years of gracing this heavenly planet. Her eyes spoke more than her voice could ever speak. I’ll always remember her eyes best, even though she is beautiful & ravishing.