It has started raining here, and the weather feels 'Delhi nice' — the kind you once said inspires beautiful poems and blog posts. I hope you're enjoying your weather too, and having a lovely time : 

He noticed her not in the blaze of daylight, but in the hush between moments —

the quiet pause between laughter and longing,

the glance that lingers just a breath too long.

She was not the kind of beauty that begged for attention.

No, she was resplendent in her reticence,

a woman carved out of constellations and conviction,

whose silence spoke volumes and whose gaze demanded reverence.

He first saw her in a room where ambition hung thick in the air.

Her presence was not ostentatious —

it was deliberate.

Like a pen poised over paper, ready to inscribe a destiny.
 

She wasn't trying to impress.

She was just being, and that was extraordinary.

Unapologetically earnest,

precisely punctual,

unfolding truths from people as if their lies were simply too shy to stay.

There was a gravitas to her —

a weighty grace that made even chaos feel organized.

He did not fall for her at once.

He descended into her, like a diver into deep waters.

Each day, another fathom.

Another layer of her unveiled —

the disciplined zeal,

the tenderness tucked behind her punctuality,

the fierce loyalty that trembled beneath her poised demeanor.

She wore pink like it was her warpaint and her lullaby —

vibrant, tender, brave.

She spoke softly, but her words etched themselves onto your bones.
 

He watched her defy exhaustion,

embrace vulnerability,

and rise — always rise — with a quiet dignity that disarmed him.

It was not her beauty that captured him.

It was the intellect embroidered with empathy.

The way she could decode someone’s truth

without cornering them.

The way she worked — not for validation, but because it needed to be done.

He fell in love with her not because she made him feel complete,

but because she made him feel more real.

More himself.

The moment he knew — truly knew —

was a simple one.

She was sitting cross-legged, lost in a book,

her hair tied messily, a small smile on her lips,

as though the universe had whispered something kind into her ear.

And he thought —

"If I could live a thousand lives,

I’d fall in love with her in every single one, 

and still find something new to adore."

Thanks for reading this blog ! ♥️