Stranger

strings

July 10, 2016☘️ 2 min read

I can see turbulence in the wind. So strong it is, so violent it is and yet when it embraces, when the wind embraces her hair; there is a sensation of obedience in it. Like a war general, her hair is commanding the army of turbulent wind streaks to bow at its spontaneous moves, at its silken touch, at those sun rays reflected off it.

I can see a few locks of her hair are desperately trying to become curly. They’re encouraging the wind streaks to rise, seducing them to run through and cause havoc. I’m relieved they’re all not curly because if they were, the turbulence would turn into an uncontrollable twister.

But I want the curls too because I want the turbulence too; just enough so she would act out of habit and run her fingers through her cheek to the back of her ear, to put that rebellious lock back where it belongs.

It’s almost as if she has forced a smile. Her lips are acting weird, acting devilish, as if to lure even the mightiest of all men into believing that she wants to smile and they’re pretty damn good at it too. They almost deceived me; they almost made me her prey.

But it’s not her lips that has given it away; it’s her cheeks which are trying to show a bigger picture here. The ever-so-slight puff over her cheeks tells you that all she wants to do is laugh, laugh like a door without a lock, like a fish with angel wings.

At the end of every laugh, there’s always a smile. Oh yes, a laugh always ends with a smile. And I can imagine that smile of hers would be as venomous as I see it now with the exception of shyness of the flash and the attempt at showmanship. It would be like a little girl who wakes up to see her mother’s face, like a sparrow with a french fry. And I would be happy to fall prey to that smile. Because that smile would have the power to kneel humanity.

Just before I laid my eyes on her, I could see it all; the wind, the turbulence, the sea, the waves, the sand but now all I can see is a girl in red tee, turbulent locks of her hair, the luring smile, the imagined laugh and an alien looking locket around her neck.

The locket tells me that she’s a believer; she’s someone who has a lot of faith. But the question is what does she believe in? On whom does she devote her faith? Why is she not looking towards the ocean? Who is she? Who is this creature?

However there is one thing about her; just one thing that I hate so much, I almost feel like I’m cursed for eternity because of it. It is the reason why I’m finding it extremely difficult to figure her out, the reason why it all seems so misty and the reason why she’ll always be a mystery.

What I hate about her are those stupid goggles she’s wearing, keeping me from those eyes. Hiding the answers to all my questions, shielding her soul from the eyes of a stranger — a stranger who’ll die knowing that he once saw an angel but could never find out the way those eyebrows tucked themselves when she slept, the sparkle under that disguise or even the color of her eyes!


Ronak Baldha
He writes code, cooks food, and ruminates.