I used to gaze at her - though through her veil it was only her eyes that were visible. And I used to wonder and dream and wish that she might be gazing at me too. And like clock-work she used to be present at 8 in the morning in the small road that goes in front of my room and I just have to raise my head to see her.
He is there. The cigarette is still there, and he looks as tired as any other day. I wonder if he recognizes me; Is there anything that I am entitled to show to the outer world which is me? The veil from the tailors, the kohl from the local shop, the perfume from the same place? I wonder and dream and wish that he can recognize me! And somehow I have this feeling that he does recognize me.
What would she be thinking? Will I ever recognize her if I find her un-veiled? I am in love with her, but what am I in love with? What do I know about her? Well I know she prefers blue eye shadows. I know she has at-least 7 pairs of shoes. I know she loves Jasmine. I know her left eyes twitches more than her right. She has beautiful eyes and I know that she is aware of the fact that she is beautiful.
Is it a taboo to think of him; of his lips; of his careless hair? Of his cigarette? Of him!
What would it be to make love to her? How would she be naked? Would the rest of her as beautiful as her eyes? Or is it that her eyes are like any other eyes, just that everything else being veiled gives it the beauty?
No comments:
Post a Comment