He looked into her sparkling eyes, her big beautiful talking eyes... they beamed at him in amusement... he could look into her eyes and know her temper... they had their own language...  he was considered the greatest artist in his expanse and yet, he couldn’t paint the picture that her eyes alone depicted.

He ran his hand in her hair, her long smooth silky hair. They were so dark; it created the impression of that silent, clear night where her moon like face shone brightly. He sometimes tried to imagine little stars in her hair... glowing, accentuating her beauty, if that was possible.

He looked at the rest of her face, her ever smiling, naturally beautiful face. A legendary work of the most legendary artist in this universe. The curves... the lines of her expression...they were so perfectly imprinted in his memory that he could draw them with closed eyes.

He once summoned the courage to tell her that she is the most beautiful girl he ever had the privilege to come across. She had laughed... her innocuous laugh sounded like those little bells ringing in a temple. That was the first time he had seen her laughing heartily. Usually, it was just a shy smile that adorned her perfectly carved face.

The sound of alarm ringing woke him up from his lucid slumber. It took him a moment to gather his senses and realise that all this was another one of his morning reveries. Many cultures around the world believe that a dream witnessed in the early hours of morning comes true. He looked at the sketch of his art student who died six years ago. The sharp pain in his core set his spirits down and he smiled, like he had done every morning for the last six years.

Just few days before the accident, he had given her a portrait. The first portrait he had drawn of her. She was dazzled, her eyes had widened even more, perhaps she had realised then, as to how beautiful she really was, but how could it be? The portrait wasn’t even half as beautiful as she was; nothing could be that beautiful, that mesmerising, that... fascinating; and her expressions sufficed as an exchange of his hard work and dedication for the painting. He wanted to hold her hand, to feel the burst of sunlight as she smiled at him, to hear her voice that was sweeter than the birds singing outside he wanted to see her eyes widen in amazement or amusement, he wanted to look into her eyes and see the beauty of nature unfold in front of him, he wanted to look into her eyes and see his own soul, and he wanted to sit and admire her when she was lost in one of her sketching... he wanted all of that... one time... just one more time....

But most of all, he wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he would give anything that was needed, that he would go to any lengths necessary, that there was no road he won’t travel to just get a glimpse of her... but he couldn’t....

He never even got a chance of saying a goodbye, to look at her one last time... to tell her that there was nothing in this world, more precious than her... that his entire lifetime wasn’t enough to cherish the present she was... that his life depended on her... that her smile made him feel everything was alright... that he wanted to kiss her once... and then once more... feel her pink ruby like lips on his... to tell her that whenever he looked at her; he was filled with deep and strong emotions of love, passion and sometimes lust... that there was nothing in this world that could come even remotely close to her gratifying presence.

He got up from his bed and dragged himself to the nearby window. He looked as the sun slowly crawled in the east. He had heard that everyone in their lives go through a heartbreak at least once, but was it this bad with everyone? Yeah, people get rejected or the person they love; loves someone else, but he felt that just as being ignored is worse than being hated; not getting a closure is worse than getting rejected.

He remembered the first day she had come to him.

“I am a big admirer of your work,” she had said with excitement, “will you please teach me how to sketch?” At that moment he knew; love at first sight was not a myth.

In just a matter of days, they had come so close.

 He once summoned the courage to tell her that she is the most beautiful girl he had ever had the privilege to come across. She had laughed. “There are a lot of girls out there who are far better than me,” was her playful reply. It has been over six years now and he was yet to come across someone half as lovely as her. Twenty two years before that were also futile.

Then there was that day. That dark gruesome horrifying day when he saw her for the last time. She was very happy. She had got a new puppy and wanted to leave early to play with it. That was the last time he saw her… the last time he heard her voice… last time he saw her smile… last time he felt her touch... that was the last time he saw her engrossed in her work, painting a fine landscape,  oblivious of the surroundings. He watched her work, adored her grace and elegance, her hair were tied behind in a pony and her fair skin glowed in the sunlight. Some of the green colour had splashed on her right cheek. He gazed at her for an infinitely long time, partly amused and partly awestruck at the sight that was greeting his eyes.

That day he had thought it was appropriate time to ask her out for a date. He had decided that he would do it first thing when they meet the next day. But that was the last of her he ever saw. He didn’t go to the funeral; the news that she had been torn apart, mutilated, had had more than a shocking effect on him. He wanted to believe it was a lie, that even if her time had come, she couldn’t die such a harsh death. God can’t be this unfair! An innocent girl of twenty didn’t do anything to deserve this... he didn’t do anything to deserve this….

He wanted all this to be a lie, he wanted to propose to her, tell her how he felt, he wanted to tell her that she was the reason he wanted to wake up every morning and didn’t want to sleep any night, he wanted to tell her that she was the reason he smiled, he wanted all his reveries to come true.... he wanted to... if not anything else... get rejected and see her with someone else... at least a goodbye... that would have been better... a closure would have been better...

(Dedicated to Baby Girl…)