She can’t be from this world. No
poetry in the world can express her eyes. The two mesmerizing big sharp eyes,
the two most beautiful pieces of art. Their enigmatic glitter puts diamonds to
shame. Movement of her eyeballs is better than a thousand peris swaying on some
remote lack in full moon, with their dresses placed aside.
Looking out of glass window, I
saw her dancing around in that stormy evening of December. The cold was too
intense to get one’s blood frozen in veins. Thinking of the cold outside, I
called her into the room. The air changed its direction, casting raindrops over
my window. These tiny beads of the raindrops, blended with lights coming out of
next building projected her perfect shadow over my window, the shadow that kept
me awake for dozens of nights, the shadow dark enough to hide the daylights,
bright enough to let me see through utter darkness, into her bedroom miles away.
Every time I walked past her
office, I could imagine her setting in there with her charismatic personality,
spreading her Jasmine aroma around the room, sending walls into deep solvation.
How softly she would be touching her keyboard keys, making a noise that would
beat any melody of the world. Her voice, better than a thousand birds singing,
her lips far beyond my imagination, her hair, sleek strands of silk bearing
this privilege of kissing her back, sending water drops down her spine to the
unexplored areas.
Afraid of insomnia, I decided to
talk to her. Walking into that cafe where that beauty will be dining in for
next couple of minutes was not an easy task. I had to motivate myself to face
her, double checking if all my nerves were working in fine condition. Lost in
the imagination of having her on my table, I couldn’t realize she was already
here. She took her veil off, covering the whole café in pin drop silence,
making sunrays bounce back from the window blinders, putting a perfect pause to
everything and everyone in the café at least. if it wasn’t throughout the
universe.
I ran out of that café, leaving behind
a half-burnt cigarette and a half cup of coffee. Smoke coming out of the two
mingled up in the air, intensified for a second, vanished forever the next
second, turning coffee a cold bitter liquid, cigarette, a lump of ash.
