“She prefers it in black! Ok, the dark shade of the brown
would also do. No, let’s go for dark tinge of magnificent purple, it goes
strikingly well with her laced mauve lingerie. Crazy, isn’t it?” Yes, to match
your eye-liner with your slip-ins.
But, let it be, as she thinks once the former is on, and the latter is in, he
is going to die in her arms. “Hush me!!” these were some wild thoughts she just
devoured upon, a wild reverie. She leaves for office and think about the heap
of assigns she has for the day and a huddle of emails she had to reply to. Just
before saying goodbye to the room, she flashes her eyes in the mirror, they
look amazing in black….she adores and would gently kiss them if she had the
capacity to do so. Heights of narcissism; move on!
The day had been spent, somehow all goofed up and upside
down, some unmanaged thoughts make their way through her mind, but his thoughts
makes her grip her palm even harder. She dreams about him, even day-dream, gosh
he is lovely! She makes it sure at 5:00 pm to visit the mirror and check upon
the expression of her face. The blush is all gone, but the eye-liner stays there, the deepest black, the shimmer well defined
and it comes out sharp from the edge of her dark brown eyes. She is contented;
she is happy to see that smile that reaches her eyes and makes it even more classy.
He is meeting her for coffee this evening, they will decide
mutually whether Barista would make it smooth or Starbucks would help them feel
all the way more starry! All set, with her off-white shirt tucked in her black
colored pants, a thin black belt with a dull gold buckle hangs around her waist
erotically. He comes wearing a white shirt too! She loves the shade of the blue
color denims that hang upon him, and that ethnic pair of chappals which she had
gifted him. She loves him so. His mood is switched off, and she can make that out
as she has not been complimented as yet, even with the echoing shade of black
which defines her eyes. Oh lord, men!! She flutters her long lashes, helplessly.
She keeps his right hand in her lap, and hold his fingers so
as to pass on an amusing tickle, just to alleviate his mood. He is numb. She finally
initiates the conversation, “how do I look?" he says "you look sexy as always!”
she blushes red. This time her smile reaches even a higher distance than just
eyes. She feels high at her head. It was difficult to determine the rationale
behind that numbness or say the dumbness surrounding him that evening. Being
quiet and saying nothing, why men do that? Why would some men want to just hold
your hand and sit quiet and let you bear the consistent urge of your mind? The
mind which was yelling at her, that why you had to waste this elegant pair of
pants and a sleek-cut off-white shirt if he was sad today?? He kissed her
forehead and they parted ways, for the day!
After dinner, she sat relaxing in the balcony, under the
splendid moon-light, as she sips on a king size cup of coffee. She wonders, “Why
is that so? why is there a need to feel appreciated? Why did so desperately I
want him to compliment the profound black eye-liner
I had on my eyes.” She was answer-less, she went to see herself in the mirror.
Her reflected version was ready to admire her untouched dark-brown eyes, and
the shimmer of the black was as loyal and brightly labeled. She goes to bed,
and sleeps with a gratifying thought at
least my eye-liner speaks!!
