Into the myriad corridors of that museum
I met this man with a mystic smile
The way he stared at the painting of the road –
His eyes Gazed beyond vision and depths!
As if he’s walking his journey of many miles!
There was something strange in his gaze
As if he’d entered a whole new world!
Never before had I seen such eyes full of passion!
We left the museum.
I ceased to forget those eyes, His gaze haunted me,
More than his mystic smile.
And there I was, baffled from within!
My mind went crazy thinking of those eyes!
It was hard to deal with his absence.
I couldnt help but rushed to the museum back again
And sat by the painting.
All I could see was the reflection of those eyes.
I waited there for the day.
And went back home by the evening.
This went on for days,
Until that Sunday morning.
When my hopeless self was sitting on a bench in front of that painting.
For a change my eyes were off the painting and down on the stoned floor;
A shadow caught my eye
and I looked up to the painting.
I saw the reflection of those eyes.
I couldn’t but believe myself I was captivated.
Sigh, I looked down again.
A moment later someone pats my shoulder.
“Hi!” I heard.
It was him.
It was the first time our eyes met!
My eyes were glowing wide open!
As if an age-long thirst was quenched.
Tears rolled down my eyes.
As if two lovers met in years!
And that’s how we first met!