The girl behind the spectacles
When noon's warm rays upon my college fell,
My professor spake of fresher's festive spell,
A farewell party, where I was to play
The anchor's role, and guide the merry way..
In BCA's hallowed halls, she did reside,
A sophomore fair, with eyes hid inside,
Her spectacles, a veil to conceal her sight,
Yet laughter danced upon her lips, a wondrous light.
I, senior to her, yet felt awe and fear,
My words, entwined in hesitation's snare,
Her friend, a confident maiden, stood anear,
And with one glance, my courage did unfold and disappear.
"Thy name?" she asked, and I, with humble tone,
Didst whisper low, my heart in tumult thrown,
She bid me join her class, I did decline,
And she, with gentle smile, didst say, "Tomorrow, we shall entwine."
Her presence, a strange, ethereal glow,
Didst fill my soul, and make my heart bestow
A sense of wonder, that I could not define,
As if the world, in her, didst newly shine.
By station's gate, I sought to speak with her,
But she, in whispers, said, "SMS, my dear,
Shall be our medium, till we meet again,"
And I, obedient, didst her words retain.
Days passed, and scarce, our conversations flowed,
Yet, in her voice, my heart didst find a home,
When once she called, and I, in surprise, didst hear
Her tones, that didst my very soul endear.
Her peers didst say, "She's wrathful, odd, and cold,"
But I, in her, didst find a heart of gold,
A river's depth, that didst in silence flow,
And with each word, my love for her didst grow.
"Life," I asked, "what is't?" and she didst say,
"Let all things be, and fade away,
For in the end, 'tis but a fleeting breath,
That we call life, and then, 'tis but death."
Her words, a paradox, of calm and fire,
Didst stir within me, a love most true and dire,
For though her exterior seemed austere and cold,
Her heart, a flame, that didst my soul enfold.
And thus, fair Rishu, thou didst capture me,
With words, that didst my heart's deep secrets see,
Thou art not ordinary, but a gem divine,
A maiden, fair, and beautiful, in every line.
Thy reputation, wrongly, doth precede,
For thou, in truth, art gentle, kind, and freed,
From worldly cares, thy spirit doth take flight,
And in thy eyes, a radiant light doth shine so bright.
Though we didst speak but briefly, thou didst steal
My nocturnal rest, and make my heart reveal
Its deepest thoughts, and with each passing day,
My love for thee didst grow, in every way.
Thou art not lost, fair maid, but found,
In every word, and every glance, profound,
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