Vibrancy

It is quite unfortunate. Indeed. Had only Shakespeare seen her, he would have mused, "Vibrancy, thy name is Woman!" It is indeed unfortunate that Shakespeare did not see her. Well, I am not getting romantic; I am quite incapable of romance. But the first words that emerged out of the the many rivulets of kaleidoscopic emotions that gushed to my mind (not to speak of my heart) when I first spoke to her were very precisely these. She has simply captured my imagination as a very cheery, bright and enterprising lady.

In fact, upon deeper retrospection, I have many a time relegated her to the status of a very normal woman; diligent, woman-like and conformist. And, at face value, every word of it is true. And you hold fort until you speak to her. In fact, had I been a maudlin romantic, I would have gushed, "Until you are swept off your feet by a voice that gargles like the brook; by a countenance that gushes like the river; by a demeanour that is as pleasing as a lotus; by time that stops like the stillness of the lake." But one thing I will have to admit: had I not given her this reverberating sobriquet, I would have simply called her as the Brook. When she gushes, you cannot help but be swept off your feet. I think she is worth most similes in the passage and probably this eulogy. Again, the Romantic would have mused in nostalgia, "She fleeted across my life for merely a month; and her feet have left some of the deepest impressions in the deserts of my mind." But I merely wish her well and hope she does not end up drifting into normalcy. I'm sure everytime she breezes past in the waves of peoples' reminiscence, the recidivist romantic will jump, unable to suppress an echo: "Oh! Vibrancy, thy name is woman!"

- posted by Dileepan @ 4:21:00 am

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