Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Stolen Glances


When I catch your eyes with mine, it makes me wonder what's going on in your head. It is a casual stare into nothingness or an intentional glimpse. That fixed, haunting look. Do I remind you of someone? Do I resemble someone you knew? Did you remember that you had something to say to me? You don't even spare the notorious mirror or glass cases. Do you know something about me? Some secret? Those eyes which have so much to say, always full of conversations. And when I respond with a tweak of my brows in question, all you do is smile, shake your head and switch your gaze. 

They say the eyes are a window to one's soul, and I can peep into your heart, literally now. There is a certain warmth to your scrutiny, I can't comprehend. A certain level of concern, of humility, respect. A mixture of  dreams and hard-core realities. A look that both melts anger and irritates. And there is a lot more than what meets the eye. Because your eyes speak a different language, words quite different from what you actually utter. And you just contradict yourself, every time.


And every time I catch you staring, I feel a sense of victory,like a cop who has caught a thief red-handed,  like a kid playing hide and seek. But, well, we aren't kids anymore. Gone are those days...


I'd prefer to be hidden, locked away from that gaze, stolen out of that watchful sight that follows me wherever I go. Because it's all a waste of time. The world has much beautiful sights for the eyes to behold. And I hate being watched. 


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