A tiny drop of tear was struggling to
cling on to the edge of her eyes. It seemed to me as if it was determined not
to let go of her, but in vain. It slowly trickled down her cheeks, leaving a
faint trail of smudged kajal, losing track somewhere at the corner of her face.
I gently held her hand as she sobbed,
leaning over my chest. At this strangely intimidating moment I realized how
beautiful she looked even in sorrow! This was not my first time seeing a girl in
tears. But for some unfathomable reason, this one girl seemed like an angel to
me. Was she in need of my comfort or was I craving for hers? What would I not
give to live the lifetime of a tear, born in her eyes and perish at the edge of
her lips! That one tear tingled an elusive spark, unknown to me till then…
I know this is not best of the times
to admire a girl. But senses don’t work when one breath-taking moment extends
to an unaccountably long time. At this eternal moment, I remain awestruck- how
this seemingly delicate being in pain, in sorrow, define the entire purpose of
my existence, to be a witness to her life, a reason for her smile, a comfort for
her pain?
I've heard a girls' tear
possesses supernatural powers. At this moment of inseparable bliss and the
influence of her sorrow, I realized that in my case, it is making me realize am
in love!
