I looked at you like an Oxident would look at an Orient, with awe. Thinking you to be some mystic beauty with powers to enchant . Your peculiar hair style, your aromatic and unique attar, your poetry and the subtle mannerism of yours made me deeply fond of you. It wasn’t some childish fondness for a playmate however it was a strong attraction towards a thing of beauty . I always found you to be beautiful. I never felt like touching you fearing I would pollute your benign presence . I still find you beautiful but I can’t be with you . I just want to look at you the way mortals look at the moon. Detached attachment is what I desire. Therefore today when you asked me to have a cup of tea together I couldn’t say yes, I can’t destroy this pleasant remains of familiarity. I hope you understand.