Friday, August 19, 2011

A Face with no name…

The softness of her hands…that touch…it was something that I wanted to feel for so long. I had missed it, I had yearned for it, I had gone looking for it. I knew it was there somewhere but I just hadn’t found it…yet.

A few hours were all that I had spent with her and yet it seemed like they were the most precious few hours of my life. I found myself thinking of her night and day; every minute; every second that I spent around here…I could feel within me the strong desire to be with her, around her. It was hard to believe how I had changed, how she had changed me. I had turned into that which I did not know was in me- a hopeless romantic…

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A cold winter evening it was, when I first laid my eyes on her, in a park. She seemed to be lost in a train of thought and I did not think it prudent to disturb her. Yet I could not resist myself from going and sitting next to her. She lured me towards her- like a fish to bait, an irresistible pull.

I just sat there observing her every movement, those blue eyes-cheery and determined yet unfocussed, a long streak of brown hair falling over her eyes in a fringe. I was high on the cherry perfume that lingered about her person.

I was intoxicated by her very being.

We sat there in silence, for what seemed to be an eternity. She was a dreamer; lost, in a world of her own while I found myself glancing at a dream myself, one which I had never had. I kept gawking at her, unabashedly, trying hard not to make it very apparent and failing miserably. I just couldn’t help it.
The simple fact of the matter was that I was in a trance; I was mesmerized by her.

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A soft wind blew today. A cascade of maple leaves blew my way as I walked a road going nowhere. I felt dreadfully alone, the leaves seemed to be my only friends. They seemed to greet me, knowingly. I loved coming here, ever since that cold winter evening. It was the one place I could relive those magical moments what seemed now, to have happened several light years ago.

Every time I came by here, I felt an unexpected thrill. I hoped against hope that I would get a glimpse of her. But it wasn’t to be. I did not have a number; I did not have an address. Hell, I didn’t even know her name. All that I had was a photograph, deeply embossed in my head.

A photograph of her.

I had tried finding out about her. But to no avail.

Every time I came here all I remembered were those blue eyes, the fringe of brownish hair, that cherry perfume and the face with no name. Every time I came through the park, I felt that unexpected thrill, my heart beat quickened but those few moments of jitteriness were translated to another long wait.
I coerced myself, again, into believing that the next time I walked by- I would see her and talk to her. That little spark inside was still alive.

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