“I don’t believe in magic,’
The young boy said.
The old man smiled,
‘You will when you see her.’
She is not a mere series of occurrences that you will encounter on your journey of life; she is not a mere package of attributes with a plastic smile that you will look at, admire and then forget; she is not one among the many in the crowd. She is not the one you can spend some time of your life with and leave with the contempt that it’s perfectly alright to move on.
She is the magic that you will wake up to every morning, try to decipher, try to achieve and then go to sleep every night, believing that it has just been a dream.
She will conquer your senses, your imagination and establish that pulling force which will draw you towards her, even if you feel tired and wish to let things go. She will keep that fire burning. You will not just look at her but feel her, you will live with her and understand that yes, women like her do exist, that women like her are not meant to be temporary visitors but permanent ones, the ones who define the word, ‘forever.’
She is like the dawn who will wake you up to yet another challenging day; she will break the silence of the night, the pleasure of your slumber and yet you can’t help appreciating her, her colors, her vibrancy. She will lead you to the day and make you feel your own breath, obscuring the mundane shadows that had blindfolded you from living all this while.
Women like her scare men, threaten them but then again, force them to taste their limits. This is what makes her so special because that man needs to have something to see her true self. Very few can make it through the burning fire and emerge in the pacifying melting ice. Very few can see the true self of women like her.
She is not easy to decipher. But you need to try. She is like the lightning you are scared of but are awed by the marvelous beauty. She is like the storm which will blow away the dust, create the rhyme of chaos and settle down like a loving breeze, soothing the warm rocks. She is complete with the mother waiting for her unborn child and she is also the nascent breeze that makes flowers bloom.
She is that first downpour of summer rain who will fill your life with ephemeral peace and then linger in your consciousness coming back again and again and then be wrecking havoc like the November storm, yet you can’t help melting in her sweetness.
Her voice is soft and that draws you closer to her, to hear those unspoken words she fumbles and you lose your guards; you find yourself drowning in affection, in love.
Words mean a lot to her and she embraces the world with them with care, fumbling on her own, leaving unheard, most of the times. And you need to hear that to feel her, to understand her.
She is the same storm who will make you feel that there’s nothing to be scared of. Soon, you will feel the softness and fall a little more in love with her.