"I can be the dark, just for you to love your brightness." Reyansh Rathore.
*.✧ ___________✧*。
Guilt and remorse can become your constant companions, clinging to your soul until you decide to release them. Yet, will your consc...
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My bad!
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What name would you give a situation, where you want to groom yourself. With a twist, that for others. Then, a thought arises, don't we groom ourself just to be looked beautiful in other eyes.
I don't know about others, but honestly speaking I did it. There was, is a time where I wanted to be dressed, go in a manner that I fit in the standards of the society, fit in the trends people made. You know, want to look fashionable, not caring if it was making me feel less like myself.
That's where a guilt came, and a realization that I was being harsh with myself.
I bring the purple chiffon saree before me, staring at myself in I the mirror. With my other free hand, I bring the pink silk saree, placing before me. Defiantly! Going for purple.
But don't know this feeling of grooming myself is different. Not exhausting, nor draining, but something giddy, exciting. I tuck the saree in the undercoat, the purple color lined with white strips.
The bangles clicking against each other, playing music in the silent wardrobe. I plate the hem of the saree, when a thought crosses my mind, what's his favorite color. Is it black? I perk my lips, remembering did he ever mentioned it to me. No, if he ever had, I would've never dared to forget. As, my mind has taken the job to coat his every word in my long-term memory, and when he's not present to play before me, like a videotape.
I shrug my shoulder, keeping the plated part on my shoulder and pinning it. It doesn't matter? He will love me any color. What if I'm overconfident? And he doesn't like it.
Then, he is different from other, even in the crowd, with the dirty shabbiest attire, he still will find me and still dare to write me poetry of my mess.
And this does looks good on me, I sway my body a little, looking at the mirror. Anyways, if he doesn't like he better close his eyes. Then, how will I look at his eyes, which I'm unknowingly falling for is beauty.
Gosh! Kiraz. I slap my cheeks. Wake up. Wake up. Have I got insane?
