After that evening, I didn't feel like cycling anymore. I knew I was only attracted to this beautiful girl but since that evening I felt I was being mean to her by cycling and being happy. She was sad and I was sad for her. There was despair in that place. I used to walk in the lane, trying not to make any noise. Some days she would be at the balcony.
We would see each other. Her eyes seemed to say something. How was I to know? I tried not looking in that direction. I wanted to detach, more I tried more I was attached. My eyes seemed to have a will of their own. They would constantly try to have a glimpse. My heart was not happy to be crushed this way. My love story had ended before it had begun.
One evening, as I walked down the lane, another plane flew. I felt a sudden surge of emotions. I was happy, excited but at the same time a fear emerged from within me. The last time when her plane took a flight towards me, my plane had crashed. Dramatically enough, the plane knew where to land. It landed smoothly right in my feet. I didn't want to pick it up. I looked at her, her eyes.. I just couldn't resist admiring this beauty. Such deep, dark, young, expressive eyes, she had. I felt my heart skip a beat. My hands obeyed her eyes rather than my commands. They picked up the plane.
It was another message.
Dear Cyclist Friend,
I know you have stopped cycling and playing. Thank you for sharing my sorrow. I realise you are unhappy for me. But I request to you, rather than you participating in my sorrow, let me enjoy your happiness. The hour when I see you cycle and play with others is the best of hour of my day. Don't take it away.
Regards
Friend
(At the window pain)
I looked up at her hardly controlling my emotions. She looked at me with pleading eyes. I wanted to write back to her. I wanted to communicate. There was so much unsaid and unanswered. Expressions and only expresions.
Someone called her. She left the window and went away. I stood there for a while and then walked away...