Love is blind. Is this phrase true Love is blind?
Love is illogical. How can Love just exist? What is this mystery?
I get down at the India Gate and find you standing outside your car. I knew India Gate was your favourite ever since college. I wondered why were you so addicted, and why would you always roam about here. You look happy from afar. I want to just keep looking at you.
I see a handsome young man seated across, looking at his phone, texting someone and smiling. I look at his pretty face, his strong built shoulders and soft hands. A very soft person and gentle. He is wearing comfortable but crisp clothes. An expensive watch. Greeting the waiter courteously, very smart person.
I look at the balcony on the fifth and I see a couple kissing madly. His hands on her chest, her legs on his, and both wrapped around each other. I take a deep breath and I look at the pool instead. I sit there lost in thoughts about you and how you would hold me just out of the shower and pull me in, as we bathed and kissed. I touch my lips remembering your touch, your lips.