Kajal lined dove eyes. Mystically magical eyes that were windows to her beautiful soul. Those eyes made her beautiful. That girl in polka dots. They addressed her so.
That girl in polka dots. His heart burned with rage; when they addressed her so. Those devilish eyes; I will pluck them out, he cried out in pain. He wished he could. He wished he could proudly declare what she was to him.
He passed by that alley. Every single day. A glimpse of her; that sure made his day. That girl in polka dots. That girl meant the world to him. His world had ceased to exist the day she was snatched away from him. Now in those stolen moments in that alley he had begun to live. That girl meant the world to him. If only she knew.
Did she not see him? No, never. He made sure she never did. Such was the irony of his love for her. He couldn’t bear to see hate in her eyes. Does she hate him today? He didn’t know. He had done nothing wrong after all. Not to her. He had loved her with all his heart. Always. Fate had deprived him of his chances to express that love.
It had been ten years. Ten years since they met. A decade of loneliness. He had fought it all. In the wilderness of a foreign land. The bitterness of those years stayed put in his heart. Ten years ago, she was chosen to be deprived of his love. When the scales of his love weighed a tad bit light. Helpless, he had let go.
A decade later, he faced his guilt. A decade later, he walked in to that place; a place that she called home. As the door stood ajar, he faced his past. A murky marriage it was. Flashes of the past played before him. A sudden pang of remorse gripped his heart. Empathy from her; probably never. I inflicted pain and so shall I get, he reinforced upon himself.
Little did he know, what was to follow. She saw the pain that housed in his eyes. She saw the fear that engulfed his heart. She felt the love that clouded his soul. She called out to her daughter. Their daughter. That girl in polka dots.
He waited for her. As she came up to him, a drop of tear rolled down his cheeks. He held out his arms and reached out to her. She came running and curled up in there. This was the day he had waited for; all along. She didn’t hate him; his daughter. Why did he think she would?
Years later, he found unconditional love in the warmth of his daughter’s hug. Years of pain melted away in that one moment; in that moment when he could finally take his daughter home.
This was his moment of triumph. That girl in polka dots. That girl was his daughter.