A Note To The One I Will Never Meet

Have you ever noticed the strange faces amidst of the crowd? When their mere glance strikes a chord with you and leaves you numb and helpless to do nothing but have one more glimpse of them without brooding any second thought in the back of your mind. You find them attractive, however, just for an instance or a few more one or two moments. The faces you encounter in the crowd.

They are nothing but a way to bring a little coy and veracious smile on your face. So many transient, but a momentous thoughts surge in your mind to get to know them, how they’re different from a mere acquaintance to eternal friendship that could lead to another level or gradually comes to a null and void.This is what my prying mind and solemn heart made me write, a short note to the anonymous faces I encounter in my daily life and have the greatest impression and influence over me.

Dear stranger,

I don’t know if you get much time while walking along the boulevard lane; as the cold, mellow and whispering breeze shivers down your spine, makes your nose plum red and lets your teeth chatter. Perhaps, you don’t get to see your family so often as earlier when you were young and free.
May be you hardly notice your hair line parting is getting wider and dark circles below your doe-eyes filled with zest. It is not like what occurred to me is your miseries and despondency only. It is just that I don’t want to smile when your lips apart in glee, but to discern and share the melancholy in your sighs too. You are predominantly “the dark horse” for sure, it is inevitable. I assure you.

But in spite of these ups and downs I would like to ask you out. And I would like to remember the colour of your eyes before the dusk comes and after the dawn arises. The moment when I could see in the bright sunshine the glimpse of your eyes.

The spark which never goes out and every time when there’s a flick in your mood, I would like to see those crystal clear eyes that hold fidelity, love, respect and care for me. Sometimes half-open, half-closed like the half-moon of your iris, when you’d be engrossed in your pensive thoughts.
Crescent iris of yours, when you must be tired and lethargic; the eyelids would carry their arms around them. Full high-arched brows with your wide spry eyes open to acknowledge the splendid mesmerizing beauty.

I love your sense of humor. It’s not witty or contemptuous but rejuvenating, sprightly and scintillating which leaves me in awe, rendering me to look to the other side of the world that exists before me.
I’m  practical, emotional, reticent, cynical, stubborn and sagacious. In my life getting intimate with you isn’t my goal. It never was. The rest begins now. Though it may end in the next moment or the other. But, I would like to get to know you more. While writing the prose and verses, I would like to get distracted by my desire to catch a glimpse of you, just to bring myself to believe that it’s not surreal.

I would like to focus again and again, contemplating on Remington fonts on my screen. This is no comedy, no romance, my desire of knowing you is my inquisitiveness, not an inch closer to being nosy, but skittish; it is not coveted and obsessive either, it is meticulously modest.
I would like to know from you, about your kith and kin and the ones you aren’t friends with anymore, but hold a special place in your memories you cherish always. I would like to know, what you like and what you don’t; and if you’re on cigs and liquors and why? And what music do you listen to blues, country, jazz, pop, trance, folk or rock and thousand many other things?

I would like to know you and if not, it would be alright, if I don’t get a chance to meet you. Because I would not lose anything. We’ll be like strangers as we were before. Besides it’s a privilege getting to know my insight that isn’t vague anymore but enlightened. It helped me to write some beautiful savoring words about some estrange soul that I will never meet again or perhaps I will.  🙂