Hooked

I don't know what keeps me hooked on to you.
I have been to wild sojourns before, and a few roller coaster rides as well that
went nowhere, but never have I felt so high and for so long.

Why is your kick so strong? What makes you potent? Who is behind all this?
Psychology? Physiology? Chemistry? Endomorphins? God? Nonsense?

Grey wisdom, I mean science, has enriched me somewhat about psychedelic
experiences, but it never elucidated why during the course of such experiments
with truth, that's how I like to put them, we, by chance, get fixated to some and
in due course of time, that fixation becomes so compulsive that we never set
ourselves free of it.

I have this inkling that there is something heavenly we experience on those
sojourns, something that we treasure the most and would do anything to get
hold of it, so we keep reverting there to feed us more of it. The slimmer the
chances, the covetous the actions, the vicious the results.

“So, are you that? One of my experiments with truth?”

I remember vividly how we met. You had come for vacation at your cousin’s place.
He was my friend, in fact my best friend whose home I frequented often. When we
first met, you were watching some movie, but it was not Shahrukh’s; I think, it
was some old movie of Amitabh Bachchan, and you were so engrossed that when
I wished, you turned, for a second, towards me and without any response, turned
yourself again towards the screen. I must say it was not deferential, but then I was
used to such gestures from girls of my age. I have never been a hunk and going
by the glimpse I catched of yours on that day, you too didn’t look like any
ravishing princess. Yet that glimpse astonished me. There was something
transcendental in those brown eyes. Some kind of tribute to perfection.

The immaculately kohl lined eyes, somewhat big with a touch of mascara:
Oh! they got hold of me.

I have always been fond of kohl, but they never blew me away before. Yours,
on the other hand, made me wonder whether the ‘black’ that had always been
a symbol of evil had this time upended the ‘white’ from the lordship.

Later on I got to know you more. There were so many other remarkable things
about you apart from those beautiful eyes; your smile, your innocence, your vivacity,
your stupidity, your conversation style, the way you kept your ‘r’ silent before a
consonant or at the end of a word like the English do: the list is long and I shall
recount them in future.

But, on the first day, it was your eyes that got me...