Few weeks back I was at the Thimphu district court…………don’t be suspicious now, I didn’t rape, impregnated any innocent girl from any of the remote villages. No divorce case filing either for reason pretty simple—I m still single ready to mingle and play jingles. Any one willing? Hold on; let me catch on my breath 😉

I was asked to register before 9’ O clock at the court. Murphy’ law played its trick on me. Guess what! Both the tyres of my car were flat (punctured) the night before. I stay in Semtokha and early mornings are too cold even for “otherwise eager” taxi drivers.

I called up Tashi to lift me up. 8: 45 am and road was still empty. My breath steams out like cigar puff—no trace of Tashi yet. Dogs haven’t woken up even. Hope rosters woke up, though. Streets empty. Roads lay like black ribbon. I remembered Alfred Noyes’ “The Highwayman” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dYtgmLdDkg0 (check this out if you want to read/hear the poem) Bess the landlord’s black eyed daughter. And the black ribbon like road. POM POM, instead of tolot tolot. And Tashi drove his car. I lost my Poetic journey.

Almost 9’ O clock sharp it was and I zoomed in to the registering chamber of the court. Thank god! I fitted my name in to the thick dirty register. “Bench 4” said the man chewing doma, las la, was my answer. Where is the bench I wondered but kept calm? Wanting to warm myself up, wrapped my fingers within my buray kabney (white in may wai da rung hehe). I walked towards the crowd, wanting to see the mysterious bench 4. I saw no bench but her EYES.  Bench 4 was written on the door instead. Silly me; never understood the legal terms—no wonder lawyer is a far fetched wish.

Eyes, she had the best of all. I have seen my friends appreciating women’s beauty when their eyes constricts with ale and gall. But I saw her eyes in a broad day light in a mist of my own breath. She had green all over. Green tego, greenish kira, green hand bag, greenish hair band, everything green—she must be an environmentalist I guessed. Even her nails were painted green. But her “EYES”, simply plain and attractive. Wao!! exclaimed my sense. Adrenaline content within my blood vessels went up. Lips dried up. My heart beat increased. Did she choose the man standing close by her?

Her mobile phone rang and its colour was even green. Her fingers, sleek and long had a ring on. I couldn’t remove myself from her eyes. God must have crafted those eyes while he had all the free time.

Eyes with the exact tint of colour, eye lids with curvy hair over, eye lashes dark and fresh, eye balls rightly sized. The base of her nose gave the perfect architectural design for eyes. Perfectly drawn lines, simply drawn by the best millimeter pencil on earth. Hers was the best pair eyes for any judge to judge.

I was lost deep within. She left the scene (all in green) with her newly wed husband—she got her marriage certificate, the court approved. Legally her eyes were sealed.