It was a sunny day until rain drops hit the scorching ground. I didn’t notice them until one touched my lips trickling down my throat. I could taste the wet sand and a hint of lime grass, however that didn’t have my attention. My eyes were fixed upon the moving silhouette of the body, across my window. I turned around just as I saw her entering the balcony but couldn’t escape the sight of her smile.
I couldn’t look at her. I wouldn’t. All these days and she never noticed me. She does look at me, looking at her. But, something about those eyes, they never meet mine. It’s been few weeks I shifted here, I never saw her coming out of the house. I get to see her mostly when the weather allows me to, when the breeze subtly knocks the pink curtains of her window letting me peek into those eyes amidst her dark hair.
I turned to look at her, unable to hold any longer and was staring at her now, like I always did in spite of the continuous protests of my brain. Adrenaline rushed through my body when I saw her staring towards me, no, towards where I stood. Her gaze wasn’t fixed. Her eyes; they searched something. I knew I had to make this work now, little desperation was worth I thought and I waved at her to grab her attention. She laughed hesitantly like she did very often but not at me. Her eyes were still searching for something. I felt a little ruffled now, it almost felt weird. She was staring into the sky with puzzled countenance.
Just then I heard someone squealing at her. “Riyah, come on in!” She withdrew her gaze and almost tripped turning around, her arms stretched forward searching for…searching for something to grip? She held onto the edge of the wall, and moved slowly towards the window where her feet hit the rim of a flower pot and she fell this time. I couldn’t understand what was all that. Was she playing blindfolded? Just then a lady walked in grabbing her by waist and shouting, “The rain has stopped and no, there is going to be no rainbow appearing now.” She was searching for the lady’s eyes, chuckling a little she whispered with a voice so delicate, I feared it would split before reaching the ears. I couldn’t hear what she said, no, my brain wouldn’t comprehend. I was brazenly looking into her eyes; not out of curiosity but affection now, as I rewind what I heard. “You could have lied mama, you know how these eyes show me nothing but darkness, yet my brain still tries to drench colours into it, with the thought of rainbows. Did the sun return yet?”
It’s been three months, yet she still doesn’t know the presence of her admirer. I look across my window at her every day now, not with a hope to be noticed but a hope to see her eyes reflect a smile. A smile; rushed with colour that tricks me to believe that there is still light in them, there has always been.